A Little Companion Piece to Fa A Bhialainn Ann
by Veralidaine
Summary: I was looking back at the first few chapters of Fa A Bhialainn Ann and just cringing at my considerably-less-than-perfect writing. So I thought of doing Remus' POV on the whole thing. Here 'tis. Can be a stand-alone, but it might be good to have read Fa.
1. The Hogwarts Express, a New Student, and...

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing ****

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. All characters mentioned are JK's, and though Remus Lupin's parents are just implied and technically I characterized them, that's all I did. Er…Some of you may have picked up on where I got their first names when I mentioned them in _Fa A Bhialainn Ann_, which came from _The Jungle Book_, obviously by Rudyard Kipling. Just amusing myself…

****

A/N: Erm…Right. I've just posted the latest chapter of _Fa_, and was going back to look at all the previous chapters. And cringing. And wondering vaguely why I thought it was good at the time. Anyway, so then I decided I wanted to write this. I dunno; the idea just sort of popped into my head. I hated that first chapter, and I thought I might do this in Remus' point of view, partially because I just adore Remus Lupin, and partially because it will make me feel better to do that chapter with my *coughcough* _exceedingly _improved writing skills (hey, you don't believe me? Go check out the first few chapters of everything under my profile…That's some serious advancement…). Oh, and I'm still going with Lily's last name being Andrews. I know it's Evans. And she's a Gryffindor. I know. But I started this story last summer, remember?

****

A Companion to _Fa A Bhialainn Ann_, Chapter 1

__

By Veralidaine

__

Take your time and you'll be fine

And say a prayer for people there

Who live on the floor

And if you see what's meant to be

Don't name the day or try to say

It happened before.

~ _Things Behind the Sun_, by Nick Drake, from the album _Pink Moon_, 1967

(What, you thought I only did song quotes for Fi's stuff? I love Nick Drake's music…)

It was the morning of September the first, which, though to most is a completely normal date and nothing to think about for longer than a few seconds, was a completely different story for people like Remus Lupin. He sat on the foot of his bed, picking at the patchy quilt and checking over the items in his trunk for a final time--the first Hogsmeade visit wasn't for another month, and so it would be impossible to buy school supplies if he forgot any…_Quills, parchment, robes, socks, dre-what?_ With a look of extreme distaste he pulled out the navy blue dress robes between two fingers and, sighing, threw them at the chair in the corner. They caught on the back, one sleeve dangling limply to the floor. He certainly hadn't needed _or _asked for dress robes. He supposed it was his mother's doing, slipping those into his trunk.

Fed up with checking the for third time over to make sure he had everything, Remus stood, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Sirius' owl had continued to plummet into his window with notes every few hours the previous night, making annoying slamming sounds and forcing Remus out of bed to let the poor thing in. Padfoot, it seemed, was simply too excited to sleep, and due to that he needed to keep _somebody _awake, or he might get bored. And, apparently, James had told him to "stuff it and go to sleep, you bloody moron." So who did that leave? (Well, technically Peter was available, but he had a tendency to go to sleep at eight-thirty every night. Once he was asleep, it was impossible to wake him--that owl would have been banging against his window for hours, with no response.)

Remus glanced at the mirror above his dresser, annoyed at the unhealthy reflection that stared back, scowling. He still had dark lines under his eyes from the previous full moon, from which he'd just recovered, and his hair simply refused to lie flat. He jerked his sweater straight, hoping he didn't look too off-color, and grabbed his wand off the bedside cabinet, heading downstairs.

Remus' mother was standing at the stove, simultaneously making bacon and using her wand to fly toast across the room to the table, where it landed neatly in a stack on a large plate next to the butter and marmalade. She was rather tall and slender, with shoulder-length, dark brown hair and a rather large nose, that, unfortunately, Remus thought, he'd inherited. She was a genuinely cheerful woman, and was obviously quite talented in the kitchen. Remus ducked instinctively as her wand directed two more plates toward the table, where they landed and spun noisily for a moment before settling flat. Raising his eyebrows, he called out over the hiss of the bacon and the sound of cutlery zooming out of its drawer, "What is this, the trenches?"

His mother turned suddenly and smiled at him, dark eyes crinkling as she did so, and directed all objects in mid-air to the nearest flat surface. "Remus, good morning. You're ready, then?" She had a soft, low voice that held a smile just as noticeably as her face did. "Did you find the dress robes?"

He grimaced. "Yes…What do I have _those _for?"

"Love, you're sixteen," she said, sounding amused. "_Eventually _you might want to look nice for someone." She waited until he was out of the way and next to her before starting up the relocation of breakfast items via air.

Remus ducked as a frying pan containing scrambled eggs flew over his head and began doling out portions onto either plate. "Somehow," he said, grabbing the orange juice pitcher and a glass on their way to the table and pouring himself a cupful, "I doubt I'll get the opportunity."

For a fraction of a second, his mother's dark eyes flickered with sadness, but she covered it up with a smile just as quickly. "Now, that's ridiculous." She turned back to the stove and prodded the bacon, looking annoyed. "I don't think this is cooking properly…"

"'S alright, Mum," Remus muttered. "I'm not very hungry."

She turned around, hands on her hips and a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. "Of course not. First your father, now you. Honestly--he had to leave for work early this morning, and _he _wouldn't have breakfast, either. The both of you look emaciated."

"I don't look _emaciated_," Remus said indignantly, remembering his pathetic reflection and groaning inwardly. "I'm just not hungry. Nerves."

His mother grinned as his stomach punctuated this remark with a rather loud growl, audible over even the noise of the kitchen. "What do you have to be nervous about?" He looked annoyed, but she pointed purposefully to the table. "Sit. Eat. Don't argue." That last order was added as Remus opened his mouth plaintively, but then obeyed.

Sighing theatrically, Remus slumped into his seat, grabbing a piece of toast, which had just finished buttering itself. "I'm not…nervous exactly. Not about school itself. I mean…" He sighed again. "It's just the usual leaving-for-school nausea that sets in. You know, the what-ifs." The flying had stopped and his mother carried over a pot of tea, setting it on the table and patting his cheek, making him mutter, "_Mum…_"

"You've nothing to worry over. Dumbledore explained the situation to me, with the place you go for the full moon and all that. Nothing will happen, and you needn't worry that it might."

Remus swallowed his orange juice too quickly, the acidity of it burning his throat and making him cough and splutter. Yes, that was all well and good, but Dumbledore didn't know the whole story…

His mother misinterpreted his choking on the orange juice for more worries, for she reached across the table and straightened his sweater, smiling at him warmly. "Love, I know it's hard. I'm sorry you've had to endure all of this nonsense." She grimaced. "But you can do it. I got a letter from your Defense teacher saying you were the best in your class, and even surpassed a few seventh years in knowledge that you'd not even covered yet. Your O.W.Ls came back with brilliant results. You're doing just fine." She smoothed his hair fondly and summoned the cream and sugar for her tea. 

As she stirred in the aforementioned ingredients, Remus stared blankly at the black and white chessboard tablecloth, chin in his hands and mind elsewhere. He didn't want to leave home. His mother always took such good care of him during the full moon, and leaving for school meant…Well, it meant more adventures, of course, but the sense of security and care was gone. He was brought back out of his reverie as his mother said, "And I want a full report in a letter, every week or so." She grinned impishly across the table. "Especially if there's a girl."

"_Mother,_" he intoned in a long-suffering voice. After a moment, he muttered, "I'm not taking the dress robes."

She smiled stubbornly. "Oh, yes you are. It's such a nice color on you!"

Remus flushed. "Oh, and when would I get the chance to _wear _them?"

"The Hallowe'en Ball, Christmas, Hogsmeade…" She continued to list appropriate times, and Remus had a sneaking suspicion that she'd made up this list in her head previously, anticipating the very question he'd asked. He held up a hand and she stopped.

"What would be the point? I only go to stand idly around the punchbowl, pretending to have fun." It was true. James usually just stared at Lily, who stared at James; Peter tried to dance with various girls, while Sirius made crude comments regarding different girls and their tastes in dress robes, and Remus reprimanded him, being a prefect. That was pretty much the routine.

"You might meet someone," his mother said insistently. "You might want to look nice if you see her there."

Laughing in disbelief, Remus shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. "When did you become so obsessed with my social life?"

"Since you turned sixteen. It's not unusual," she said defensively, seeing the look on her son's face. "Andromeda has the same problem concerning Sirius."

Remus wondered if Sirius knew this. Or cared.

"Anyway, we've got to get to King's Cross. I'll wrap up some sandwiches for on the train--go lug your trunk downstairs."

*

"_Moony!_"

Remus glanced up to see Sirius Black galloping in his general direction, earning disapproving stares from some of the Muggle adults and more than one curious glance from others. His cart rattled violently behind him as he pulled it, and Remus felt a sinking in his stomach as he knew that Padfoot wasn't going to be able to break in time, due to the momentum the cart had taken on. He nimbly stepped out of the way, hearing his mother chuckle behind him, as Sirius whizzed past, leaving streaks on the floor from his shoe heels as he tried to slow the cart. He succeeded, barely, before hitting an old Muggle lady who looked to be about two-hundred-something and glared openly at the boy. 

Grinning sheepishly, Sirius turned the cart around and headed back in Remus' direction. Remus snorted as the path that had been hastily cleared for Sirius' speeding cart filled up again slowly with pedestrians, all glancing indignantly at him as they picked up their dropped luggage. Sirius was grinning broadly, and his mother, looking extremely flustered, came jogging in from the Black's car, which Sirius' father was currently driving away from the doors. "Sirius Altair Black, what mayhem have you managed to create _this _time?" She looked up mid-lecture, violet-colored eyes registering recognition. "Oh, hello, Remus."

"Hi," he said, still grinning at the stares that their little group, especially Sirius, was still getting. His mother and Mrs. Black began chatting idly about something-or-other, and Sirius grinned at Remus, shifting a large duffel bag to his other shoulder and completely ignoring the looks he was getting. Luckily, the platform was starting to quiet down after the disruption. However, if that particular guard standing nearby didn't go stare at somebody else, it was going to be quite difficult getting through the wall to nine-and-three-quarters without grabbing his attention. After all, it wasn't every day that an obnoxious teenaged boy disrupted the public peace and then proceeded to disappear through a solid wall.

Suddenly, Sirius' head was snapped back as somebody yanked on the too-long-without-a-haircut mop of black hair he sported. He turned around, glaring, to see the freckled face of Annelle Jensen, and behind her, Lily Andrews. Annelle grinned wickedly. "We need to introduce you to scissors, my friend," she said in her thick Liverpudlian accent, hands on her hips. Brown eyes slanted in an all-too-sincere grin, and she raised her eyebrows. "Well? Going to say anything, or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?"

Sirius crossed his arms. "Oh, aren't _we_ mature today," he said, not even posing it as a question. Remus found this rather humorous, owing to the fact that not ten minutes ago, Sirius had come hurtling through the station, nearly running down an old lady in the process, and hooting at the top of his lungs. 

"Well _I _am. Dunno about the _we _part."

Lily gave Remus a grin and "hello!" and then tapped the still-bickering Annelle on the shoulder. "Er…Can we get settled on the train?"

Annelle turned, one eyebrow piqued, and grinned. "What, you don't want to wait around for your darling James?"

At this, Remus and Sirius' mothers stopped chattering and looked at Lily interestedly. Lily flushed. "_No_, Annelle, I _don't_. Come on. Let's go get seats before they're all taken and we have to sit with somebody we don't want to."

As they walked off in the general direction of the platform, casually conversing and then leaning--and then disappearing--through the barrier, Remus turned back to Sirius, who was watching them go with a smug expression on his face. Sirius grinned. "She fancies me."

Remus rolled his eyes. According to Sirius, the entire female population of Hogwarts (with the possible exception of Professor Minerva McGonagall) "fancied" him. Remus was used to such proclamations, as were Peter and James. And speaking of…

James came jogging through the doors, nearly out of breath. "I…had to run…all the way…from the car…Late," he finished, pointing at the clock overhead shakily. Indeed, Remus saw, with an extreme case of nerves setting in, they had two minutes before the train departed. _Bugger_, he thought fiercely, and gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek (Sirius couldn't mock him, as his own mother had grabbed him and was forcing a kiss onto the struggling teenager) before casually sidling through the barrier and onto the platform. James followed suit, and then Sirius, who was busy wiping lipstick smudges off his face with a disgusted expression twisting his features. 

James glanced around, once they'd gotten their trunks on the train (in the middle of the aisle, but on the train, nonetheless), and his eyebrows knit together. "Where's Peter?"

Sirius shrugged. "He said he was sick."

"Sick?"

"Yeah," Sirius replied, picking up one end of his trunk easily and dragging it down the aisle, glancing in the windows for an empty compartment. "Apparently his mum's going to drop him off at school tomorrow for classes. I got his owl this morning."

"Didn't know that was allowed," James muttered, following Sirius down the aisle to the compartment he'd selected. Remus picked up his trunk, arms straining against its weight, and dragged it behind him, tailing James. 

"Well, what d'you expect?" Sirius said, draping himself casually over the seats in the compartment, having deposited his trunk in the overhead compartment already. Remus set his trunk up next to James' and slumped down in his seat. Sirius shrugged. "I mean, if you're sick on the first day, what are they supposed to do, say you can't come for the rest of the year? He's just missing out on the pumpkin pasties, the feast, and watching a bunch of nose-picking firsties get sorted.

At that precise moment, a rather large group of nose-picking firsties slid open the compartment door, looking absolutely terrified. A girl towards the front who sported blonde pigtails cleared her throat nervously and said, in a very small voice, "All the other compartments are taken. Can we--"

"Go ahead," Sirius said, standing up. "Let us grab our robes and we'll go elsewhere."

"Well you don't have to leave--"

"'S okay," James assured them with a smile, popping open his trunk and grabbing a ball of wadded-up black material. Remus discovered upon opening his trunk that the blue dress robes were folded neatly on top of the stack of black school robes, and made a mental note to berate his mother in his next letter home.

Once out in the aisle, James pulled his robes on over his Muggle clothes, mussing his hair more than usual and setting his glasses askew as he did so. Sirius, having already pulled on his robes and smoothed his hair back down, grinned at him. "Fix your hair and glasses. You go see Lily like that and she'll wonder who you're cheating with."

"You have a one-track mind," James said darkly, smiling nonetheless and smoothing his hair as best he could, having righted his glasses.

"Yes, but at least no one has to wonder what I'm thinking about," Sirius said proudly, earning a chuckle from both his friends. "Now, let's go find Lily and Annelle. They got a compartment ages ago--they've probably got lots of room." Sirius led the way, glancing into all the compartment windows, making faces at some of the occupants inside while James rolled his eyes at Remus, making a _he's supposedly sixteen, right? _face. Finally, Sirius let out an "Aha…" and slid open the compartment door at the end of the train. James and Remus stood behind him, looking in confusion at the girl in the compartment with Lily and Annelle.

She was odd-looking, Remus thought, but in a nice way. She had very pale skin and long, wavy brown hair that, around her face, separated into little curls, which framed big, blue-gray eyes. The rest of her was rather plain--but the eyes drew attention immediately. She was looking quite shocked to see the three of them standing there, and it didn't help when Sirius asked, "Who's this?" and nodded his head at her.

Annelle sighed, glancing at Sirius with a patient look on her face, as if he were merely a toddler that was asking stupid questions. "Well, she's right there; why don't you ask her?"

James shot Lily a curious glance, but other than that, no one said anything, being the oh-so-tactful adolescents they were. After a few seconds, Remus gave the new girl a smile, realizing that no one was going to start this, and stepped forward, sticking out his hand. It looked exceedingly big and clumsy when compared with the small, pale one that clasped it. "Hi. I'm Remus Lupin," he said, rather unsettled by the intensity of her eyes.

Sirius had regained himself (and stopped the staring contest with Annelle). "I'm Sirius Black." He grabbed her hand and pumped it up and down.

"I'm James Potter," James added, smiling warmly and, in turn, shaking her hand. "Good to meet you…er…"

"Fiona," the girl said, in a thick Irish brogue that made the three of them stare, lips turning up in a small smile. "Call me Fi."

Sirius broke into a wide grin, and Remus was afraid for a moment that his friend was going to laugh or do something equally rude. "Are you Irish?"

Fiona nodded, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Aye." Remus liked the sound of her voice. And immediately kicked himself, mentally, for thinking something so stupid.

James smiled his James-the-Super-Gryffindor smile and crossed his arms. "Well, welcome to England, then." He gave Lily a little smile, then turned back to the new girl. "Is it much different here?"

Fi nodded, sighing deeply. Her eyes, Remus noticed, were a little red-rimmed, as if she'd been crying--or trying not to. He wondered vaguely why, but held his tongue. James was the king of social situations--he'd leave the conversation to him. Fi smiled lightly. "Much. Everyone stares when they hear me talk," she said, making Remus redden slightly, embarrassed for doing just that only moments ago, "and not to mention I'm Muggle-born, so I get enough trouble as i'tis."

Lily shook her head, csending oppery locks flying around her face and making James stare at her dazedly for a moment. "I'm Muggle-born. Don't let it worry you."

Sirius nodded vigorously. "Yeah. So, what house are you in?"

"Well, I don't quite know yet," Fi responded thoughtfully, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat. "I hope I end up in Gryffindor, though Ravenclaw doesn't sound bad."

Lily nodded, and Remus cringed, knowing what was coming. "You don't want Slytherin, though. Trust me."

Everyone went quiet, Sirius jamming his hands in his pockets, Remus staring out the window, and James winding an arm around Lily's shoulders. Lily cleared her throat. "I'm in Slytherin." 

It always bothered Remus to no end that Lily had been put into Slytherin. She was the sweetest, most generous, selfless (not to mention pretty) person Remus knew, and she went against everything that Slytherins were supposed to be. (He knew that the house-prejudice in the school greatly influenced these feelings, but _really_…) Fiona looked positively shocked, and Remus grimaced. Obviously she'd heard enough about Slytherin to know the implications of Lily being in that house. Slytherin, after all, had a reputation that traveled to other schools.

Remus cleared his throat, trying to be tactful, and yet almost afraid to open his mouth. But the subject had to be changed. "So, ah...D'you mind us sitting with you, Fi?" It sounded stupid, even as he said it, but it got everyone considerably more cheerful.

"Not at all," Fi replied, and those eyes locked on his again. She lowered her gaze, obviously embarrassed, and scooted over towards the window so that they could all fit. Sirius nudged Remus, wanting to sit across from Annelle so they could argue (and flirt) easier. He sat down quickly and scooted next to Fiona, not quite sure how he felt about it. He chanced a sideways glance at her, and she was looking down at her feet, her hair falling in her face in loose curls.

The ride continued in this fashion--Sirius and Annelle quarreling good-naturedly, James and Lily keeping up the conversation, and Remus sneaking glances at Fiona, who absolutely fascinated him, for some reason. It was odd, really, but there was a sort of strange pull coming from her, and he wasn't sure what that meant. For some reason, he could almost sense what she was feeling. Of course, he reprimanded himself, that was stupid. But he could feel this sort of anxiety, worry, and deep-seated dread emanating from her, and he wondered more than ever what it was that was making her eyes red-rimmed. She was hiding something important that was making her afraid of Hogwarts, and of them. Whatever it was, it was a big secret, and one that she probably felt would ruin her chances of ever leading a normal life there. And Remus absolutely sympathized with that.

Finally, it was announced that the students should all prepare to leave the train for the school. Wishing Fiona luck, as she had to leave and be sorted after the nose-picking firsties, Remus pinned on his prefect badge and led the way out of the train, intense relief coming from leaving the new girl behind him (there was a strange feeling in his stomach from sitting next to her), but also immensely curious about just what it was she was hiding. He decided, politely, he thought, that it was her business and he should stay out of it, but he was curious, just the same.

*

The nose-picking firsties were being sorted, and Professor Flitwick was currently in the Cs. Remus was seated next to Sirius and James at the Gryffindor table, mildly interested in the sorting of a boy who had apparently fallen in the lake, even though the weather was perfectly clear outside. Suddenly, James nudged him and pointed to the staff table, where Professor Dumbledore was motioning pointedly for him to head in that general direction. 

Confused, and trying not to attract too much attention, he skirted the tables quietly, finally ending up at the raised staff table. The other teachers regarded him with interest as he passed, heading for the center of the table, and Dumbledore put a long-fingered hand on his shoulder as he stopped next to him. "Mr. Lupin, I've got a task for you," the headmaster said in a whisper, still watching the sorting that was taking place on the platform. Remus looked mildly surprised. _In the middle of the sorting?_ "Our new student, one Miss Fiona McLellan, has mysteriously gone missing. Would you do me the favor of finding her and bringing her backstage for her sorting? We're rather pressed for time." The hall erupted into applause as MacMillian, Jonathan, was made a Hufflepuff.

"Of…Of course," Remus whispered, nodding emphatically, and heading carefully around the table and through the large oak doors, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting from other students. The hallways were completely empty, like they were during the holidays, and he headed for the Entrance Hall, figuring he should start there, if anywhere. The echoing sound of his quick footsteps was drowned out suddenly, as he was nearing the corner of the corridor leading into the entryway, by shouting.

It was a high-pitched, panicked voice that was doing most of the yelling, and in another language, no less. Remus thought he caught something along the lines of "_Arracht!_" before hearing the oily voice of Lucius Malfoy, followed by "Yeh watch yerself, Mister Malfoy. It's not a good idea to go makin' enemies with those whose powers you dunno yet."

How odd.

There was a hoarse shout, a thud that sounded like somebody's rump connecting with the floor, and then loud, fast footfalls. Suddenly, Remus was knocked off-balance by a small missile which, upon closer inspection, turned out to be the Fiona McLellan he'd met on the train. He'd managed to blurt out, "Whoa! Watch where you're-- " before realizing who it was. He then finished the statement with "Fiona?" and mentally kicked himself. She hadn't been able to regain balance as easily as he had, and had fallen quite painfully, it looked, to the stone floor. "I'm sorry," he said earnestly, feeling awful for shouting. She turned the round, blue-gray eyes up to his face, looking fearful. Numbly, he reached down, offering her a hand up and pulling her to her feet. "What were you--" 

It was at that precise moment that Lucius Malfoy and his little band of Slytherins came hurtling around the corner, Lucius in the lead and wearing an absolutely malicious look on his face. "Out of the way, beast!" he shouted, making Remus cringe inwardly. "She's fair game!"

They found it amusing to refer to him as "beast," due to the fact that during the previous year, Sirius had played his _amusing_ trick on one Severus Snape, which resulted in Snape's--and therefore most of Slytherin's--knowledge of his once-a-month issues. It angered Remus, and he wanted to beat every one of them to a bloody pulp every time they said it, because it actually did hurt him, though he denied it. He shook his head, noticing the curious glance Fiona was shooting him at the awful nickname.

"No, she's not," he said, recovering and ignoring the girl. He decided to use his advantage. "Actually, Professor Dumbledore couldn't find her and sent me to look for her. I take it you're responsible for making her late? Shall I tell him that?"

Remus noted with satisfaction that Severus Snape, who had been standing at the back of the group of three boys (Aaron Parkinson wanted in on the potential fight, but Snape was more the type to stand by and let others do the dirty work) merely looked tired at the sight of Remus, and, shooting him a rather mutinous glare, headed in the general direction of the Great Hall, muttering to himself. Aaron followed, scowling at Remus over his shoulder in a very unsettling way. 

Lucius just stood there, however, glowering at them, daring Remus to do something. Giving in to his annoyance, Remus sighed loudly. "Get a move on, Malfoy. I've no patience tonight. You've already lost five points from Slytherin for causing this young lady trouble on her first evening here." He fingered the prefect badge on his chest, reminding Lucius of his status. He did feel stupid for referring to Fiona as "this young lady," but that couldn't be helped now. He wanted Malfoy to go away. "Now--d'you mind?"

But Lucius couldn't leave it at that. No, Remus reflected, later, he never could just leave people alone, could he? "You watch yourself, Lupin." He said, pointing one well-manicured finger at him. He turned hard gray eyes on Fiona. "And you, wench!" With that rather ridiculously dramatic ending note, he turned and stalked off.

Remus turned his gaze curiously on Fiona. The girl was still breathing rather raggedly from her run--she apparently was no athlete--and was muttering something in another language again--Gaelic, he supposed. She turned to him, large eyes friendly again all of a sudden, and smiled, giving a small sigh. "Thank you," she said, looking fixedly down the corridor the way he'd come. "They would've caught me."

Remus chuckled, a bit embarrassed at her gratitude. "Oh, not a problem," he said, grinning. "Actually, I'm impressed. It took me a whole hour to decide Lucius and I were enemies--on the Hogwarts Express, you see." He remembered quite well his first ride on the train, and how the pale boy had quite openly mocked him until Sirius bravely stepped in and popped him on the nose. Ah, the first train ride. The making of enemies, and of friends. Enough to make one ridiculously sentimental. Remus smiled. "Took you fifteen minutes." 

They had reached the Great Hall, where the sorting was just closing, and Remus wondered vaguely why it had taken so long. Consulting his watch, he noticed it had only been a few moments since he'd left to search for Fi. Time had, inexplicably, slowed down. How odd, he thought, for the second time that evening. 

"Well, here we are," he said, unnecessarily, as they stopped in front of the doors the (nose-picking) firsties had entered through. "This is it," he said, noticing how very wide her eyes got. She looked sort of pretty, he thought uneasily, before mentally kicking himself again and reminding his hormones just why it was that he wasn't allowed to think such thoughts. He shook his head, giving her a reassuring smile. "You go in, wait until Professor Flitwick calls you, and then go put on the Sorting Hat. Hope you end up in Gryffindor." He added as an afterthought, and was rewarded with a grateful, if nervous, smile. At that his stomach did some odd flip-flop and he knew he had to say something else and get away for fear of doing something stupid. "Then you won't have to deal with those twits," he finished, shifting his weight nervously.

She smiled at her feet, murmuring a "thank you" and flickering her eyes up to his face before hurriedly disappearing through the door. Remus let out his breath in a long sigh. What was _up _with him today? He figured it was all that nonsense his mother had been on about at breakfast. Her newfound obsession with him finding a girlfriend had made him subconsciously think about girls. And it had made him nervous. Of course. 

Remembering himself, he quickly headed in the other doors, finding his seat at the Gryffindor table where he had been before his little quest. Shaking off James and Sirius' questions impatiently, he smiled as Professor Flitwick squeaked, "And now, we have a transfer student from Dublin Wizarding Academy--McLellan, Fiona." 

The girl walked out onto the platform, looking more than terrified, and Remus wanted more than anything to reassure her. She would be fine. She'd end up in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, most likely, and he'd see her in class. The idea made his stomach do some interesting acrobatics, which seriously unnerved him. Swallowing roughly, he smiled reassuringly at her again, noticing that she glanced in his direction, and watched her sit on the stool, looking a bit braver now that she was actually out on the stage. She jammed the hat over her head, and silence ensued, broken only by the whispers of curiosity from the other tables. Remus saw Malfoy, Snape, and Parkinson watching her disdainfully, as if she were harboring some sort of disease. Snape noticed his stare and shot him a nasty look. Remus rolled his eyes and glanced back at the stool. This was taking an awfully long time.

Just as he was starting to wonder if something was wrong--undoubtedly, so was Fi, for she was squirming uncomfortably on the stool--the hat shouted "SLYTHERIN!"

His jaw dropped. From across the room, he saw Lily look torn between sympathy and gladness. How this girl could be a Slytherin--she was Muggle-born and…well…_nice_--was a mystery to him, but he knew Lily would look after her and help her get used to the school. They were in the same boat, apparently. She'd take Fi under her wing.

***

****

A/N: I'm enjoying this so much that I might have to do some more parts like this. ^-^ Depends on whether you guys like it or not. To be completely truthful, I rather like it, better even than the other version. Partially because I've written it having gotten considerably better at writing, and partially because it's a whole new take on things that I didn't even expect. Oh, and partially because I adore Remus. *grin* Anyway, let me know, and I'll gladly do some more, okay? Okay, then. Use the box below, if you would be so kind.


	2. Hallowe'en, and School Life in General

Fiona sat in the high-backed armchair by the fire, trying to ignore the creepy way the shadows danced about the dungeon of a common ****

Disclaimer: They're not mine. Remus' parents are characterized by me, but Remus' parents are technically J.K.'s. Fi's mine, but I'd rather own Remus…^-^ No 'fense intended toward McLellan…

****

A/N: You liked it, then? ^-^ *suppresses a rather huge grin* Great! See, I just hated looking back over those first few chapters. My writing style was awful--actually, my writing style was nonexistent. There was, like, _no_ sentence structure, and it was all very basic and annoyingly simple-minded. So. I'm amusing myself with this, and I'm glad that at least a few people are reading it (all you guys following Fa should read this--it's a far better read than my earlier works, trust me). In reality, this is just another way of keeping my Remus obsession under control. *shrugs* Sorry. Can't help it.

Oh, and the second part of Fa is all about Fiona's past and such, so I sort of skipped ahead to the third part, leaving a little space in between for time to pass, mainly the second chapter of Fa. You'll get background scenes not mentioned in Fa (yay! *ahem*) _and _the fun part at the Hallowe'en ball…And Remus' dreaded dress robes come in handy, unexpectedly…^-^

Thanks for your reviews (and for humoring me on this…)! Namely, Loony Loopy Lupin, ~Aurora~, nayantara, the ever-faithful Ayleeandra, Kira, and Ebony. Thanks, guys! I love hearing from you!

****

Companion to _Fa A Bhialainn Ann_, Chapter 2

__

By Veralidaine

__

I hear you calling and you don't have to call so loud. 

I see you falling and you don't have to walk so proud. 

You can run all night but we can take you where- 

You can shout out in anger 

You can laugh like a fool 

You can cry like an angel.

-Shawn Colvin 

(I just thought that was a nice quote. So sue me.)

Remus' quill scratched quickly across the parchment, filling it with neat, efficient handwriting down to the measurement of nearly three feet. He'd been working for nearly four hours, but knew that however outrageously detailed it looked, it wasn't nearly enough to pass. Professor Blasphen insisted on a minimum of three-and-a-half pages on an essay, with tiny handwriting, like her own. The woman was a complete lunatic, really, Remus thought, scribbling down more nonsense about what, precisely, to add, exactly twenty minutes into brewing the Draft of Living Death. It was absolutely tedious, writing down all of this in enough detail to fill up over a yard of parchment. As Fiona had said earlier, when discussing Blasphen, "There's only so much you can say about adding a bunch of rot together with water in a big pot. 'S not that complicated." In reality, it _was_ complicated, but the girl was quite frustrated with her potions grades, and nobody argued.

He smiled lightly as he thought of earlier that afternoon, when he'd been in the library working. That was when a very aggravated Fiona had bustled in, bag nearly bursting at the seams with thick volumes on Potions. She'd stacked them all quite unceremoniously on Madam Pince's desk, making the ancient, dusty woman glare at her from behind her ancient, dusty glasses. She'd been about to leave the library when she turned and saw him watching her. Rather embarrassed, Remus gave a small smile and went back to scribbling on his essay, which, at the time, reached only one-and-a-half feet long. Suddenly he looked up and saw, with an odd twisting sensation in his stomach, that she'd seated herself next to him and was glancing over his shoulder. "I'm not copying," she assured him, wide blue eyes locked on his. She grinned amicably. "I just wanted to see how far you'd gotten."

Remus shrugged and brought out the dreaded tape measure, whose only purpose, it seemed, was to discourage him. It was a wizarding tape measure, of course, and at the moment it read, _I'd suggest you get a move on, speedy--isn't this due tomorrow?_ Grimacing at the tape, he glanced back up at Fiona, who was looking at the tape measure in interest. Then her eyes moved to his essay and she gave him a disbelieving look and snatched if off the table, looking it over. "How can you write that neatly?"

He shrugged again. "I just…do?"

"No, but really," she persisted, glancing over the top of the essay at him, one eyebrow peaked in a characteristically sarcastic way. "_Lily_'s handwriting isn't even that neat. Gah, and you should see mine." She slapped his essay down on the table and searched through her bag, the sound of shuffling papers making Madam Pince eye her with extreme dislike. She pulled out her essay, which was more than a little frayed at the edges, and set it down on the table next to his. Her handwriting was loopy and a little bigger than his, and tended to wander freely instead of staying in neat lines. She giggled and turned to look at him. "See what I mean?"

He did, and he grinned, but he rather liked her handwriting, however messy it may have been. He raised his eyebrows, smiling at her. "You can't write straight in lines?"

"Well, what would be the fun in that?" She asked, grinning and brushing stray curls out of her face. All at once, something seemed to occur to her and the cheerful attitude stopped and she bit her lip, gathering up her things quickly. "I've really got to get back down to the commons…I've only got--" she grabbed the tape measure, stopping mid-sentence, and stretched it to the end of her writing. She sighed. "_You need to learn not to procrastinate_. Aw, how cute. It offers little lessons." She looked back up at him and his gaze was caught by hers again. "Well, Remus," she said, as cheerfully as she could, considering she had two-and-a-half more feet left to write, "_Beannacht_." And with that she stalked quickly out of the library, leaving Remus to puzzle over what on Earth she'd just said and rustling loose papers as she went, making Madam Pince glare at her back as she left.

That really had been the only time Remus had spoken to her since the incident in the Entrance Hall on September the first. They'd exchanged smiles in the halls on the way to class, and Lily often said she was doing well, if suffering a bit in Potions and Defense, but other than that, life went on as it normally did--full of homework, stress, and annoying third years trying to set off dungbombs in the corridors.

*

Remus sat, sprawled, in one of the red armchairs by the fire a few days later, unfolding a letter he'd just received by owl, potions essay crammed carelessly in his bag. The circled grade at the top was unsatisfactory, with tiny, sharp handwriting beneath it in red ink, stating that he had "left out far too much information and that his work was clearly done at the last minute, and therefore unacceptable and neglectful." And, apparently, his handwriting had been "illegible at times." He cringed, thinking about what Fiona must have gotten on hers. 

The letter, as it turned out, was a response from his mother to the first letter he'd sent her. Apparently, she didn't care that he'd said he didn't need the dress robes. And she was well, and was glad he was well, and his father said hello. And he should get his Christmas shopping done early, during the next visit to Hogsmeade. And he should go to the Hallowe'en ball, of course.

Remus rolled his eyes, folding the letter carefully and placing it in his bag, pushing the crumpled Potions essay farther down into the mess of papers and quills with a crunching noise. He'd write her later. As of now, he was busy sprawling in an armchair by the fire and letting his mind wander, an activity that was rarely allowed what with homework, his prefect duties, and studying. 

Sirius looked up from his Transfiguration essay on Animagus transformation (All four of the boys had been absolutely thrilled when given this topic--how easy could it _get?_) and raised one eyebrow. "You're done already?" Remus nodded tiredly, and Sirius scoffed. "Well," he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, "I suppose that's to be expected, you being the overachiever you are. You probably started this essay three days ago, when she assigned it, didn't you?"

Remus nodded, having worked with Peter on it yesterday (the boy had been given detention by Blasphen for this evening and wanted a head-start so he could have it done and not worry about it), and awaited the inevitable mocking he'd get for--God forbid--applying himself in school, but it never came. He glanced at Sirius to see what could possibly have interrupted his favorite subject for Remus-teasing, and discovered that Annelle had come down the stairs, in bright purple robes of velvet. She smirked at Sirius, who was staring at her with a confused look on his face. "What?"

"You're…purple."

Annelle snorted. "No, actually the robes are, Sirius. These are what I'm wearing to the Hallowe'en ball. I just wanted to go find Lily and get her opinion."

James perked up at the mention of Lily's name. He looked Annelle over with interest. "They look nice."

"Thanks, James." She smiled brightly at him and turned to Remus, eyebrows raised expectantly. "What d'you think?"

Remus shrugged, smiling. "I agree. They look nice." He didn't care that he was being redundant. He wasn't a fashion consultant, while James had to deal with Lily's constant worries that she might not look good in a certain color, or in a certain robe-style, or with a certain shade of eye shadow… It was all quite ridiculous, as Lily could make even the most hideous of dress robes look good simply by wearing them. James often told them, and in doing so gave Sirius even more material to tease him with, that she looked by far the best in green.

Annelle turned witheringly to Sirius. "I won't even ask you."

"Excuse me," Sirius said pompously, making James chuckle, "but I believe that I, by far, have the most expertise in judging women's clothing."

"_Really_, Sirius?" Remus asked, grinning. "Tell us, do you model?"

"Yes, all the time," Sirius shot back without even hesitating. "I par_tic_ularly like the shoes."

That got everyone laughing, even the confused firsties at the table in the corner. Annelle, still giggling, turned to Sirius, calming down a bit. "Okay, then. What d'_you _think of them, O Great Fashion Consultant?"

Sirius got up with a humorously calculating look on his face and walked around Annelle, looking at her from every angle, eyebrows raised. This went on for a few minutes, Annelle looking torn between amusement, blushing, and annoyance. Finally, Sirius stopped in front of her, stroking his chin comically. "Well…" he said slowly, "I suppose they're nice enough."

"Nice enough," Annelle repeated blankly.

"Yes. _I _wouldn't want to wear them, mind," he said, ignoring James' snort of laughter. "But they look acceptable on you."

"Acceptable," Annelle repeated again, one eyebrow raised dangerously.

"Yes. I wouldn't mind going to the dance with someone wearing them. I wouldn't be embarrassed or whatnot."

"You wouldn't." 

Remus almost laughed out loud at Annelle's seeming lack of articulation. She was either really expectant, or really angry. Or both. 

"No," Sirius said casually, flipping his hair out of his face and giving her one of his too-confident grins. "I wouldn't."

"_Really_." She just stared rather blankly at him, obviously trying to decipher what he was getting at--if anything at all.

"Really." 

Annelle scoffed, shaking her head at him, and said loftily, "I'm going to go find Lily." She jumped out of the portrait hole, closing it gently behind her. Remus turned to glance at Sirius, and grinned. His friend was still standing there, arms crossed, looking pensively at the spot where Annelle had just disappeared out into the corridor. 

Sirius cocked his head thougtfully. "Me, too," he said, crossing the room in three long strides to the portrait hole and stepping outside, closing it behind him. Then it opened again, and his grinning face reappeared, long enough to say, "She fancies me," before he closed it again.

James snorted. "Oh, and he doesn't fancy her a bit, does he?" he laughed, grinning at Remus.

Remus shrugged. "Well, maybe if he's not insulted her too much he'll have a date to the dance."

One eyebrow raised sardonically, James nodded. "Yep." He turned to Remus. "Do _you_ have a date?"

Remus sighed theatrically. "No." He glanced at James mildly. "Why? I never do; why the sudden interest?"

James shrugged, picking at a loose thread in the squashy scarlet armchair he was currently draped over. He knew about Remus' once-a-month problems, and it made dating a touchy subject. And James didn't want to fight. After a moment: "Maybe you could ask Fiona."

A blush crept into Remus' cheeks, unbidden. The thought had fleetingly crossed his mind, that day in the library after she'd left, but had quickly been stamped out. "She's probably already got a date. Besides, it would be awkward."

"How?" James asked interestedly, staring at him over the tops of his glasses.

Remus shrugged and opened his mouth, decided against it, and closed it, shrugging again. Then: "She wouldn't want to go with me, and then once she'd turned me down, she'd never want to even just be friends again. You know."

"Well, I thought the same thing about Lily," James said quietly, shrugging. "Sometimes you've got to take a chance. Be reckless."

"Be _reckless?_ Ah, James, what _are_ you, a character from a bad romance novel?" Remus shook his head, a disgusted look on his face. "I'm not going with _anyone_."

"Why?"

Remus glared at him, not harshly, but a glare, just the same. "You know perfectly well why."

James rolled his eyes incredulously, obviously nearing the end of his patience. _That's just fine,_ thought Remus. _Then he'll stop pestering me_. James grimaced. "The full moon," he muttered, glancing around the common room to make sure no one was eavesdropping, "is not for another two weeks. You're being dense."

"No, it's _not_ for another two weeks," Remus agreed, annoyed, "but if she should catch on? I can't date people, James, it just won't work out." He glared. "Don't get me wrong," he added after a moment, "I'd _love_ to go to the dance with someone--then people would stop _pestering _me about my love life--"

"Or lack thereof."

Remus glared. "Yes, well. But the idea of shredding my girlfriend to bits as a wolf is far from appetizing." He swallowed hard, willing the unbidden image of an attack on a girl who looked rather like Fiona McLellan out of his mind. He shuddered. "I just…I can't."

James' facial expression softened a bit. "Okay," he said, displaying one of the traits that made him as good a friend as he was--willingness to drop a sore subject before it escalated into a full-fledged row. "Sorry, Moony."

Remus sighed. "'S alright. I'm just…" He shrugged uncomfortably, not saying anything, and James nodded.

"Yeah. I know."

*

__

Damn dress robes. Remus examined them with distaste, glancing around the dormitory. James (always the spirited Gryffindor) was going to wear bright red velvet robes, Sirius was currently picking lint out of black robes (his mother had picked them out, he said disgustedly, and ignored his requests for tie-dye or neon orange), and Peter was trying to extract gold material from his tightly-packed trunk. Remus sighed resignedly and pulled the dark blue velvet from his neatly organized trunk, heading for the bathrooms.

Once changed, he examined his reflection in the mirror. It was a few days until the full moon, and so he was nervous enough as it was. He looked relatively healthy, though, and the lines under his eyes were a little less noticeable. He frowned, and his reflection frowned darkly back, hating the cycle he went through. He never got a chance to just be a normal sixteen-year-old, and every time he glanced in the mirror was an unpleasant reminder of it.

He sighed yet again and headed back out into the dormitory, smiling slightly as he saw James attempting unsuccessfully to get his hair to stay down. He was standing in front of the only full-length mirror they had in their dormitory, looking distressed at his uncooperative hair, which absolutely refused to stay down in the back. Peter had pulled on his gold dress robes and obviously thought he looked quite good in them. Remus grinned, grabbing a brush and joining the group in front of the mirror, trying to at least make his hair somewhat presentable. It still wouldn't lie flat.

The four of them finally went down to the Great Hall, Annelle calling down the girls' staircase to them that she'd be down in a moment and to go ahead. Upon entering the Hall, Remus was struck anew by the wonder of the live bats, the decorations, the huge Jack-O-Lanterns with flickering grins plastered across their bumpy surfaces. True, he'd seen it all before, five times (well, four--the full moon had fallen directly on Hallowe'en in his third year), but it was still a treat to see it decorated so festively. Candles flickered as the cloud of bats swooped lower, beating leathery wings and shrieking in high-pitched squeaks. Remus ducked, narrowly missing being clipped on the head by a particularly disoriented and frantically squeaking member of the group. 

It was after several minutes of tense waiting (for James) before Lily and Fiona appeared on the other side of the hall through the Slytherins' doors. Lily had a hand firmly around a seemingly reluctant Fiona's wrist, and several heads turned in their direction--Lily's lips were a bright cherry red and her robes an emerald green that set off her eyes quite nicely. Fiona, grumbling vaguely about something, scarcely disguised her amazement at the hall's decoration as Lily dragged her over to the group. As Lily let go of her wrist to go give James a quick hug, Fiona rubbed it gently, raising her eyebrows warily. Suddenly, Sirius grabbed her hand and, bowing, put on a very posh accent and said, "Fi!" with laughable enthusiasm. Fi looked amused as he kissed her hand ceremoniously. "How simply _splendid_ to see you here!"

James wound an arm around Lily's shoulders and grinned at Fi. "Hello again!" he said brightly. "You know, we never get time to talk after Care of Magical Creatures. Kettleburn keeps us 'til the last minute!" 

Remus agreed. Professor Kettleburn, with all his missing limbs and various magical-creature-induced handicaps, had absolutely no sympathy for the students, and therefore he let them out late, not listening to the protests of those who had Divination next, and therefore had to literally run to the North Tower. Fiona nodded, obviously thinking the same thing as Remus. "Yeah, I know. Maybe we should make time to do homework in the library or something."

Remus watched as she turned and noticed him, blue eyes smiling into his. "Hullo, Remus."

"Hi," he said mildly, intensely aware of his stomach doing flip-flops. It annoyed him quite thoroughly. He glanced around, curious, and before he could stop himself, had blurted out, "What, you don't have a date?" which caught James' attention immediately. He gave Remus an _I Told You So_ look and returned to his conversation with Lily.

"'Fraid not," Fi said, and then glared at Lily, who was looking extremely amused for whatever reason. She was grinning enigmatically at them all while Fi looked extraordinarily wearied. She raised an eyebrow and Lily shrugged and grinned at her, mouthing, "I won't…Don't worry."

This, of course, confused Remus, and apparently James, too, for he glanced curiously at Lily and asked, "What's up?"

"Nothing," Lily muttered in the same knowledgeable tone, catching Fiona's eye and offering an impish grin.

That was when Peter, never to be left out, tentatively strode forward, glancing at Fi curiously. He smiled nervously and held out a pudgy hand. "Uhm…Hullo, I'm Peter," he said, as Fi took his hand.

She shook it politely, smiling back. "I'm Fi. Good to meet you."

Peter smiled nervously--he always was nervous when meeting new people, much less girls--and, catching Remus' eye and smiling, headed off to talk to Becky Scott, a blonde Hufflepuff girl he somewhat fancied. Remus smiled back and turned his attention back to their little group. Sirius was bobbing up on tiptoe, trying to see over the colorfully-robed crowd. "Where's Annelle?"

James caught Remus' eye and the both of them suppressed laughter. James still couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "I dunno, Padfoot. Did you arrange to meet her?" Fiona looked confused at the nickname, but no one really wanted to get into an explanation of that, so it went on ignored. Fi didn't seem too hurt by it.

"Maybe," Sirius muttered vaguely, in the same mysterious tone Lily had used earlier. Then his face brightened: "Ah! There she is!"

Annelle, wearing the promised purple robes, was waiting across the hall, looking extremely pleased with herself. Lily giggled and muttered, shaking her head, "She only was late to make him squirm."

"And it worked, didn't it?" James grinned as the band on the stage started playing, and music echoed off the vaulted ceiling, tonight clear enough to see the stars quite brightly, as well as the nearly-full moon. Remus shivered involuntarily.

"I guess." Lily sighed one of those classically female, "Oh, isn't this _romantic?_" sighs, and Remus rolled his eyes. Lily just grinned, though, oblivious. "Ooh, the music's starting! D'you want to dance?"

James grinned back at her, amused. "Aren't I supposed to be the one to ask you?"

"New rules," Lily said brightly. "Women's rights and such. C'mon!" She grabbed James without any protest and led him out onto the floor, starting to dance to the rather slow, even waltz that was issuing from the band's platform. Sirius and Annelle, who had found each other, were tangoing across the floor exuberantly, knocking teachers and students alike out of their way as they hooted and giggled. They neared one of the tables, and Annelle reached over suddenly and grabbed a flower from one of the vases, clipping it between her teeth as she returned to dancing and making Remus chuckle.

His attention was brought back from the dance floor, though, as Fiona sighed. "Well, I guess I'll go sit down, then." 

He turned to look at her. She was staring at Lily and James, a faint smile playing at her lips. She was in light blue robes of a satiny sort of material, and had let her hair down freely, which he hadn't seen since that first meeting on the Express. He mentally kicked himself as he realized he'd been keeping track--she wore her hair tied back loosely most of the time. He swallowed. _She's going to go sit down, you moron--_do _something! Now!_

He flailed around for _something _to say to her. Finally: "Why? Go ask someone to dance!" He smiled, somewhat nervously, and tried to keep his voice mild. "You heard Lily—women's rights and such." _Oh, _that_ was brilliant. You certainly have a way with words, Lupin._

Fiona shook her head violently, her hair whipping around her face in loose curls. "No, I…" She shrugged noncommittally. "I couldn't."

"Sure you could!" What, exactly, his subconscious was working at, he wasn't sure.

"No, I..." Fiona shrugged nervously. "I can't, really."

"Why not?" He crossed his arms, smiling at her in what he knew must be a way that annoyed her immensely. Heck, it annoyed _him_.

She looked down at her feet, curls falling in her face, obscuring it from view. There went the stomach-acrobatics. "I can't dance," she intoned, sounding rather muffled.

"Sorry, didn't catch that." Now, of course, he was just being a prat, but an idea had got into his head, and that was always dangerous…

"I can't dance!" she shouted, over the music, shaking her hair out of her face and looking extremely flustered.

"Oh." Now that he was confronted with it, he knew he either had to apologize for being so very annoying, or…_be reckless_. Part of him wanted to apologize, but seeing Fiona glance out at the occupants of the dance floor changed his mind, and before he could even really think about what he was doing-- "Well, that can be remedied. Fi, d'you want to dance?" He mentally promised to punish his subconscious thoroughly later. The sensible part of his mind seemed to have gone off to the punchbowl without him.

She looked at him incredulously, obviously unsure of whether or not he was joking. It occurred to him that she probably had about as much self-confidence as Peter. She looked down at her feet again, going a little red in the face. "I can't..."

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for it and-- "Yes, you can! C'mon!" He grabbed her wrist gently and pulled her out onto the dance floor.

"No, Remus!" 

He ignored her protests, and chuckled at her excuses. 

"No, I...My ankles are weak, and...My knees don't work properly, and...Oh, this is silly, but..." She finally gave up as he came to their destination at the other end of the hall, out of Sirius and Annelle's tango path. Looking up at him warily, blue eyes wide, she bit her lower lip, obviously quite nervous. 

He stared for a second at her before he caught himself and, assuming his Professor Lupin voice (as Sirius had dubbed it, quite willingly), smiled reassuringly at her. "Now, one hand goes on my shoulder," he said, and she did as she was told. "And you hold my hand with the other." He settled his hand on her waist, going a little red in the face and extremely grateful that it probably wouldn't show up in the candle lighting. He noticed uncertainly that she'd turned a bit pink as well, but it showed up more vividly on her pale face.

"Right," he directed. "Now, your feet go sort of opposite mine, okay?" He delved back in his mind to learning the steps. His mother had insisted that he learn to dance, but he'd never thought he'd need to use the knowledge. "It's a three-step." He led her in the first few steps: "One-two-three, one-two-three..."

She was a bit shaky, at first, and certainly unsure of herself. She tripped a few times, but gradually got the pattern down and, more importantly, refrained from stepping on him. She was quite a bit shorter than he was even without ducking her head to watch her feet, and he chuckled, listening to her voice quietly counting out the steps. He grinned down at her, one eyebrow raised. "It's not a test, you know," he said quietly, and she nodded, still vaguely counting. "Some of it's making it up as you go along."

She looked up at him, tripping in the process, and pursed her lips. "I'm not creative enough."

He was insistent. "Oh, come on," he said, making her smile lightly as she continued to count. "You've honestly never danced before?"

"Well…" She looked up, forgetting to count for a bit. "We have parties, sometimes, at home." She smiled. "Mostly, I play the music, along with my Da, and everyone else dances." She glanced up at him before quickly focusing on one of the huge Jack-O-Lanterns across the room, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks. "I think…I danced once, with Da, but they had to practically drag me away from my flute." She trailed off, mind obviously far away. _Probably with mine,_ Remus thought amusedly. _At the punch bowl_.

He glanced at her feet. While she'd sunk into her reverie, her feet had adapted to the rhythm, and she was now dancing without counting or, indeed, concentrating. He grinned. "I probably oughtn't say anything, but you're dancing, Fi."

She glanced, astounded, at her feet, and then back up at him, grinning. She looked positively amazed that she was dancing correctly, and as soon as she realized it, she tripped, quite violently. Automatically, he reached out an arm and caught her before she fell, making her blush and mutter a soft, "thank you." He realized that his stomach was twisting around quite a bit, and he decided it was necessary to take a break and sit down. She followed him off the floor to the punch bowl (where he intended to recover the sensible part of his mind so he wouldn't do something _really_ stupid, like attempt to kiss her or something else equally unrealistic). She seemed a bit flushed, and mostly kept quiet. He grinned. "There. Now you know how to dance." He had to make it sound like he was merely instructing her, and that the tingling in his stomach was nonexistent. "So, why don't you go ask someone?" 

Her jaw dropped and she looked at him, wide-eyed. "Are you_ kidding?_" she asked, in a high-pitched voice, crossing her arms. "That was exhausting! D'you have any idea at'all how much _work _I put into that, just then?" She laughed. "I'm not nearly coordinated enough for that sort of thing! D'you honestly expect me to go ask to do it again? I mean--"

He couldn't help it. He was chuckling. She was responding to the simple idea as if he'd told her he thought it would be fun to go live in the Forbidden Forest.

"What's so amusing?"

He shrugged, grinning. "You are," he said, hoping she wasn't offended. "You honestly haven't ever done this before, have you? Other than with your father, I mean."

She put her hands on her hips, opening her mouth and flailing about for a good retort to that. She shook her finger at him, on the verge of saying something, but thought better of it, dropping her hands to her sides. "No," she managed after a moment, grinning at her own inability to articulate. 

He smiled at her quietly, reassured by her grin. He hoped she hadn't been absolutely miserable, dancing with him. "Well, you'll simply have to practice, then," he suggested, shrugging.

"'Practice?'" Fiona repeated, hands flying to her hips again. "Hmph. I've got another month-and-a-half before I need to worry about the Yule Ball." She added proudly, "Which I may not even go to."

"You're not going?" he asked suddenly, a feeling remarkably like panic rising in his throat. This was stupid; why should he care? Just because it was the first time he'd actually had _fun _at a Hallowe'en ball…

"Did I say that?" she said, eyebrows raised.

"No, but you implied it. Will you please come?" _Oh, bugger. Now she's going to ask--_

"Why?" Fiona asked, somewhat bitterly, and he knew where this was headed. "So I can trip over myself?"

"No, so I'll have someone to dance with." He grinned nervously. "Other than Peter." Lame.

She gave him a skeptical look, dropping her hands to her sides. "You…actually want to dance with me again?" she asked quietly. She looked absolutely shocked, and the faintest of color was rising in her cheeks again. She shook her head, trying to regain dignity. "Remus, I worry for your sanity."

He raised his eyebrows, smiling quietly. "I would love to dance with you again," he said, hoping it wouldn't scare her off. "Will you please come next time?" 

She just looked confused, eyes locked on his, and he felt the sensible part of his mind fly away again. He sighed. "You're going to make this hard for me, aren't you?"

"What?" she muttered, still completely mystified.

He sighed again, swallowing hard. "D'you…want to go to the Yule Ball with me?" He watched her carefully, eyes on her face.

She didn't really react, at first. Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't that. She stared at him in disbelief, and he was worried she'd say no. A smile twitched at her lips and she nodded, shakily. "I…Yes," she said, making him sigh with relief. "Yes, I'll go. With you." She stared at him vaguely for a moment. "Uh-huh," she added dazedly, making him hide a grin. She gave him a tiny smile and, following the group of first years who were retiring early for the evening, waved vaguely, leaving the hall.

He waited until she couldn't see, and then grinned right out, suppressing a cheer and hoping that nobody noticed his red face. _Who'd've thought? James was right. Huh._

And across the hall, wearing plain, black robes, Severus Snape eyed Remus in a dangerously calculating way.

****

A/N: Erm…I hope that was about as good as the last one (which I actually liked better, and am wondering if I should have just left it alone. But I couldn't, because I'm just having way too much fun…Next we have tutoring, Snape being a slimy git (oh, now _there's_ a change of pace…), and some sulking in the Gryffindor Dormitory, as well as some James and Lily teasing. And several Sirius events. ^-^ Bad pun, I know. Could I help myself? (Has anybody else noticed that if you say the word "serious" you automatically think "sirius?" Or is it just me, being the HP nutcase I am?)


	3. And Snape Enters the Picture...

Disclaimer: Er…I don't own anybody except for Fi and Annelle, and a few Professor names ****

Disclaimer: Er…I don't own anybody except for Fi and Annelle, and a few Professor names. Actually, Ebony owns Tripwort (whether she wants to or not). Most unfortunately (for me, mind), J.K. owns everybody else. Believe me, it's probably better that way—look what I put her characters through when I _borrow _them!

****

A/N: This is so cool! I'm having _so _much fun writing this; you've no idea…To be completely truthful, I'd probably keep writing it, regardless of whether anyone was actually wasting their time reading it, but the reviews make it all the more fun to do. Big hugs to Ayleeandra, ~Aurora~, Loony Loopy Lupin, Tyria Bell, ~*tiNkERbeLl*~, and, of course, Ebony (who is a good enough soul to listen to my e-mail ramblings enough for it to be hazardous to her health). To Ebony--Good luck at Irish Fest! ^-^

Oh, and I've upped the rating on this, just so I can use naughty language. Heh, you know. Boys will be boys. And Fiona will be extremely pissed off. Er…It's nothing really bad, but I'm neurotic about the ratings. That's just me. If you think this can survive at a simple PG, lemme know. I'm just being cautious.

Okay, okay, sorry, I see you all rolling your eyes out there (all six of you, rather; I'll not flatter myself). Right. To the story itself.

****

A Companion to _Fa A Bhialainn Ann_, Chapter 3

__

By Veralidaine

It was written that I would love you 

From the moment I opened my eyes 

And the morning when I first saw you 

Gave me life under calico skies. 

I will hold you for as long as you like 

I'll hold you for the rest of my life

Always looking for ways to love you 

Never failing to fight at your side 

While the angels of love protect us 

From the innermost secrets we hide 

I'll hold you for as long as you like 

I'll hold you for the rest of my life 

--_Calico Skies_, by Paul McCartney, from the album _Flaming Pie_, 1997. Sorry, I was listening to it and I love that song. Really, these quotes have little to do with the story. I just like them.

__

The wolf howled in terrible anguish, ethereally yellow, glowing eyes narrowed in severe pain, body hunched and shuddering. The feral instincts that had taken over were trying desperately to hang onto the body for just a few more seconds, but were gradually pushed away as the human half took over, feeling the pain even more acutely than the animal had. Bones cracked, growing and shrinking in chaotic disarray as they adjusted to the new form. A resounding _crack _was heard as the back legs' joints reconfigured, becoming forward-bending knees, and then another crack as ankles reformed. Muscles changed and moved, rippling the already-transforming skin; organs shifted, dark gray fur shrank below the skin. Every nerve electrified itself, changing senses from canine to human, and a long snout shrank into a plain, human nose and mouth, devoid of fangs. Suddenly, all went quiet as the transformation ended, and Remus was left, human and shuddering, on the forest floor, taking in deep, pain-wracked breaths.

A cloak was thrown over him and he sat up slowly, wrapping it around him, hair sweat-soaked, and propped himself up with shaky arms. James, having just shifted from stag to human quite painlessly squatted down next to him, taking his arm--Sirius, still sporting leaves and burrs in his hair, took the other--and lifted him up, helping him regain balance on two legs. Remus swallowed roughly, fighting the familiar urge to be sick, and pulled his arms free from James and Sirius' grips, dazedly blinking and finding his balance. He ran shaky fingers through his matted hair, nodding to the concerned looks his three friends shot him (Peter had backed away, as he always did when Remus transformed--not that he could be blamed; it wasn't a pleasant spectacle) to reassure them that he was alright.

James put a firm hand on his shoulder as Peter led them anxiously out of the forest in the direction of the castle. "Come on, Moony."

*

They parted ways in the entrance hall, Remus heading to the hospital wing and the other three to the Gryffindor dormitory, hoping to catch the four hours of sleep they had left before breakfast. Remus shivered, holding the cloak tighter around him. November wasn't ever exactly warm in England, anyway, and it was cold and drafty in the castle even during the day, but it was especially noticeable at night. Remus nodded politely, if shakily, to the new caretaker, Argus Filch, as he passed him. Filch sneered at him rather unpleasantly, but knew better than to say anything. He, like the rest of the staff, knew what Remus was, and either for fear of that or of Dumbledore, knew better than to give him any trouble during his late-night trips through the school to the hospital wing. The caretaker's ("demonic," was the common term used by students to describe it) cat, Mrs. Norris, gave a shrill feline screech and hid behind Filch's legs as Remus approached. Remus ignored it, and trudged on past, a bit too tired to be offended by something he probably could have eaten about an hour ago.

Somewhere past the entrance hall, on the stairs, he ran into Peeves, but the poltergeist was a tad preoccupied with penning large, black moustaches onto the sleeping portraits, and only managed to shout out his latest chant, Loony Loopy Lupin (which had recently replaced Moody Goony Moony, Peeves being the ever-so-creative rhymer he was), before Remus glared at him so fiercely that Peeves actually shut up for once. Remus supposed he must look rather threatening--his eyes probably hadn't changed back to brown yet. Or maybe he still had abnormally sharp teeth.

Madam Pomfrey, as usual, was waiting up for him in her office. She heard the click of the door and turned in her chair to greet him, clad in a terry-cloth robe, graying hair in a loose bun. She stood, setting down the steaming cup of tea she'd been gripping in both hands, and padded over to him in her fuzzy slippers. "Good, I was getting worried," she said softly, a gentle touch in her normally harsh, authoritative voice. She nodded in the direction of a bed in the front of the room which, Remus had neglected to notice on his way in, was occupied by a tall girl who was snoring softly. "Got hit with a rather nasty vomiting hex, that one. She'll leave you alone tomorrow morning; you needn't worry." She felt his forehead. "You're feverish. Honestly, that drafty old shack on the hill…Awful place to be in November," she clucked disapprovingly, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him into a sitting position on a bed towards the back of the hospital wing, near her office. 

Leaving him to lie down, she bustled on into her office. Remus sighed, feeling guilty, once again, for _not _going to the "drafty old shack on the hill." But they'd had fun, or, as much fun as it was possible to have as animals. And he was so grateful to James and Sirius, and even Peter, who suppressed his fear enough to come as well. He smiled appreciatively as the nurse returned, carrying a large teapot full of steaming water. Floating a cup and saucer , complete with teabags, in midair with her wand, she directed the teacup to Remus' hands and summoned one of the small bedside tables from across the room for it all. "There, dear, now make yourself some tea. You'll feel better."

She reached over, fluffing his pillows. "You've gotten better about scratching yourself, I notice," she said, and Remus shrugged nervously. He wasn't confined to the Shrieking Shack anymore, to bite and claw at himself. But she didn't know that, and he wasn't about to correct her. Madam Pomfrey took his silence as embarrassment and grabbed an extra blanket from the shelves against the wall, folding it and tossing it onto the foot of his bed. "I'll make a trip down to the hall in a few hours and get you some breakfast. Try and get some sleep so you can go back to class today." With that, she disappeared into her office.

__

Tea. The British answer to everything, Remus thought vaguely, turning the cup over in his hands and glancing distractedly at the blue flowers painted around the rim. _"Your dog died? Oh, that's so awful! Have a cuppa tea," _or_ "Your wife's having a baby? That's great! Have a cup of tea!"_ or_ "I've been meaning to talk to you. Let's have a cup." _To be truthful, though, Remus was all for it. His mother, typically British despite her years abroad, was very fond of tea, and made it often when he was home. He himself had come to like it very much, and tended to make some during meals, or when studying, or whenever it occurred to him that tea might be good. Especially for stress-relief. Sirius joked that he was addicted, but shut up rather quickly when Remus brought up a few of the substances Sirius had tried before.

As it was, it was quite relaxing, given the circumstances, to just sit there, drinking tea and letting his muscles relax and re-adjust to his form. He set his teacup down on the saucer with a _chink _and slumped back on his pillows, running a hand over his eyes tiredly and wondering how much work he'd missed from the day before. And whether Fi would question his absence in Defense. He instantly felt guilty, as the two of them had been together a lot, of late. She'd wanted a tutor for Defense, and he was the best to ask, he supposed. At any rate, they spent hours in the library, studying or slacking off, depending on how soon the test was. 

It had been a rather rainy, boring afternoon, the day before a big Defense test (Professor Tripwort didn't believe in only giving final exams or O.W.L.s), that the tension had really started. Fiona had been sitting, cross-legged, in one of the stiff, wooden library chairs, brow furrowed as she tried to answer Remus' question regarding the three types of black sorcery. Finally, breaking under the expectant look he was giving her, she threw her quill onto the table (luckily, they were in the back of the library, so Madam Pince couldn't glare at them as easily), crossing her arms and pouting. "Oh, t' hell with it!"

"Druid, Medieval, and Grindelwaldian," Remus said patiently, used to this reaction. "Soon to add a fourth category--Voldemortian."

Fi shot him a look. "'_Voldemortian_?' she intoned. "What a ridiculous name. _Voldemort._ Who names their child that sort of thing?"

"Don't joke about it," he advised, eyebrows raised. "He's rising in power. It's not going to be good, if they don't stamp him out soon." He grimaced. "Ministry's being ridiculous. Doesn't understand what could happen."

"Hmmm." She sighed loudly, staring out the rain-drenched windows, the patterns of the rain on the glass speckling her pale face. He watched her brush a curl behind her ear distractedly as she gazed out at the rain. The disobedient curl fell back in place again, but she paid it no mind, and Remus, for whatever reason, had a rather mad desire to brush it out of her face again. But that would be stupid. Terribly so. She'd probably look at him oddly and find some excuse to leave. So he contented himself with just staring at her until she turned, too quickly for him to pretend he hadn't been, and noticed him. "What?"

He immediately busied himself with his papers and shook his head nonchalantly, embarrassed at being caught gawking like an idiot. "Nothing," he muttered casually, looking up again and shrugging. 

She nodded and rested an elbow on the table, propping her chin on her hand. "Right, let's get on with it. Sooner we finish this nonsense, the better," she said resignedly, looking at the book as if it might bite her. "I hate studying."

"I know. Uhm…" Remus sighed, running a finger down the page in his book, finding his spot. He searched for a question. "Ah, here--" He was interrupted as she suddenly reached over and snapped the dusty volume shut in his hands, in protest to studying. He couldn't help it and sneezed at the cloud of dust that flew up from the old pages, and Fi raised an eyebrow.

"Are yeh sick?" 

He somewhat liked that she sounded concerned. "No," he said, sniffing. "Just dust."

"Ah." She nodded, looking out the window again. "Lily says you get sick often. Just making sure you'll be there tomorrow to give me last-minute tutoring before the chimes ring."

And Remus had nodded, giving a weak smile, exceptionally nervous. It bothered him, lying to people he knew. He'd known Lily for years, but had never directly told her (and knew that James, being the extremely loyal person he was, hadn't either) about his being a werewolf. But it was stupid to assume that she was too ignorant to notice and diagnose his problems. Whether she'd figured it out or not she neither said nor implied, but all four boys knew, from experience, that Lily was not one to underestimate. Now, sitting in the hospital wing, Remus wondered with a vague dread whether Fiona was questioning Lily about him right now. And if Lily would say what she more than likely suspected. And whether Fi would then question him about it. He couldn't just keep lying.

His stomach twisted itself into a rather painful knot. He remembered the reactions that James, Sirius, and Peter had given when they finally confronted him with their suspicions and he had confirmed them. 

"You…are?" Sirius had said, obviously amazed that his theory had proved correct (he'd been the mastermind behind the whole of it, being the nosy kid he was, but James was with him all the way, of course).

James had just sort of stared, eyes wide, and then shook his head, apparently unfazed. "Oh. Well, that's okay, then."

Peter had squeaked, "Bloody hell, Sirius, you were _right!_" and then promptly dived between the curtains of his four-poster.

Remus, himself, couldn't believe that James and Sirius weren't screaming and brandishing sharp objects while backing slowly out of the room (for the next week, Peter would demonstrate such activities whenever Remus entered a room, but it wore off after awhile, when the shorter boy noticed that James and Sirius hadn't been eaten yet). Remus had been lucky. It wasn't often that one came across such brave, genuinely good people as James and Sirius. Most normal people would have reacted in a manner not far off the mark from Peter's. Remus wondered, with yet another unpleasant knot forming in his stomach, what Fi's reaction would be, if he ever told her.

He sat up and had another cup of tea.

*

It was lunchtime before Madam Pomfrey deemed him ready to leave the hospital wing. The aching had subsided somewhat, and he was far steadier on his feet. He declined the offer, however, of looking in a mirror. It would only make him feel ill. He already knew what he'd see, anyway. He'd be extremely pale and unhealthy-looking, with big, dark spots under his eyes and a mop of hair that wasn't quite ready to be human and lie flat. So, ignoring the concerned glance from Madam Pomfrey, and the confused inquiries of the tall girl in the bed by the door, Remus left the hospital wing and trudged down toward the Great Hall for lunch, as he was absolutely starving.

Nobody really noticed when he slipped in through the doors and sat down at the table. No matter how many times he steeled himself for the wave of silence that would wash over the hall, and the impending doom he would feel at knowing that a million questions would be shot in his direction about where he'd been, none of that ever occurred. Apparently, why Amos Diggory had dumped Chelsea Connor for Ariel Smithson took precedence over where the hell Remus Lupin had gone missing to yesterday.

He slumped into a chair next to Sirius, who looked absolutely cheerful, despite the lack of sleep. James, on the other hand, though still quite willing to offer a friendly grin, looked completely exhausted.

"Good morning," Sirius said jovially, making Remus check on instinct to make sure nobody was watching. "How d'you feel?"

"Fine," he mumbled, grabbing a chicken sandwich from the center of the table and, parting the bread, removing all and any vegetables. He wasn't in the mood for rabbit food at the moment. He looked up across the table and saw, appreciatively, that Peter was giving him a worried smile. The shorter boy obviously felt bad about shrinking back in fear earlier that morning, and Remus didn't want him to feel guilty. "Sorry if I scared you, Wormtail," he muttered, trying to smile.

Peter shook his head, eyes wide. "No, I…" He lowered his voice. "It just looks…erm…_painful_, is all."

Remus nodded grimly and returned to the chicken, leaving the bread on the side of his plate and trying not to look too feral when he ate. He couldn't help it, but it was embarrassing that the fork felt so odd in his clumsy fingers. It'd wear off in about a day, but no matter how often he had to deal with it, it was always odd going from animal to human. He sighed, hoping that _someday _there might be a cure. But, of course, that would never happen, he was positive. Better to not get his hopes up and save himself the inevitable disappointment.

He was leaving the Hall for Care of Magical Creatures when Fiona caught up with him, on her way to the same class. He heard her rapid footfalls on the stone floor before he heard her voice--"Remus, wait up!"--and she came jogging up next to him, breathing quickly. "I saw you leaving the hall, but I had to get past Snape and Malfoy first." She made a face, but then glanced up at him worriedly, and he felt sure she'd start questioning him, but she just smiled. "Sorry you were sick," she said earnestly, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you feeling at _all_ better?"

"Much," he said truthfully, still nervous. 

"You don't look well," she said, eyebrows knit, eyes searching his face.

He swallowed hard, nervous under her gaze, and tried to break the tension. "Well, gee, thanks," he said, grinning, and she shoved his shoulder playfully as they descended the stairs from the oak front doors, heading to the paddock beyond the Quidditch Field where Care of Magical Creatures lessons took place. 

"I didn't mean it like that, and you know it," she said indignantly, grinning back at him and putting a tentative hand on his shoulder, which made him glow inwardly. She took her hand down and pulled her hair back to keep it out of her face. With her other hand, she fished a slim blue ribbon from the depths of her robe pockets to tie around the thick, whispy tresses. She raised her eyebrows and glanced at him. "There's a big Defense test on Monday. Can you tutor me sometime before then?"

Remus grinned. "Will you help me make up my sick-work?"

Fi snorted, looking up at him with one eyebrow peaked. "Dunno what help I'd be, being the dimwit I am, but I'll try."

"Absolutely, then. And you're not a dimwit. One o'clock on Saturday--er, no, that's a Quidditch match…" He paused, thinking. Saturday would be the first match of the year, actually. And possibly the last, depending upon the weather, before spring came. It would be Slytherin versus Ravenclaw, and so Fiona, in Slytherin house, was expected to go and support her team.

"What? Gryffindor's not playing; what's it matter?" 

Remus wondered vaguely if she'd forgotten which house she was in. "But Slytherin's playing."

Fi shrugged, a sour look twisting her features. "I don't care about them. The only Quidditch I follow is when the Kestrels are playing, and that's only when they're winning."

"Well, it _is _your house…" he said tentatively, not wanting to get her onto one of her I-Hate-Slytherin rants, which were so easy to provoke, as he'd discovered from experience.

"I know. But I don't care. In fact," she muttered, "Saturday would be perfect. Then they can't bother me about it."

They walked on in silence for a few minutes, hearing the other students who had left lunch late come pouring out the doors in their rush towards class. "Okay. Saturday it is, then," Remus consented, seeing no point in arguing with her when she so obviously had decided that she'd won.

Fiona smiled. "Right." She glanced in the direction of the growing assembly of students. "So…What've we got today?"

"Hopefully nothing with really big teeth," Remus said, thinking vaguely of the small acromantula that Kettleburn had brought in during last week's lesson. _And speaking of dangerous creatures…_

They were passing Hagrid's hut, where the enormous man was out working in his garden. He straightened, wiping sweat from his forehead, and, noticing Remus, gave a hearty wave. Remus waved back, grinning, and grabbed Fi's wrist, pulling her over to meet the half-giant (though that part was strictly secret). "Hagrid!" he called, stepping carefully over the small fence that surrounded the garden. "How've you been?"

"Righ' well, Remus, an' yerself?" was the reply, coupled with an almost painful handshake. "An' 'oo's this?"

"Might I present," Remus said, grinning at Fi's giggle, "Miss Fiona McLellan."

Fi offered a small hand, which was immediately taken and dwarfed by Hagrid's huge one. "Pleased to meet yeh," Fi said, and Hagrid's furry eyebrows raised.

"So, Remus yeh've got yerself an Irish lassie, have yeh?" He grinned at Fi's giggle and Remus' rather embarrassed chuckle. Remus wondered if Fi was blushing and giggling because she was embarrassed about such an outrageous suggestion, or for more of the same reason Remus was. 

Fi put her hands on her hips. "Aye, that he does," she said, grinning, and winked at Remus, making him go what had to be an interesting shade of purple. "So, you're the famous Hagrid, are yeh?"

"Tha'd be me," he confirmed cheerily, and turned to the door to release something slobbery, big, and black, which promptly launched itself at Fi's chest, causing her to stumble backwards. "An' this'd be the famous Fang."

"Ah," Fi giggled, shielding her face with her arm in an attempt to keep at least some of the slobber away. "He seems friendly enough."

"Aye," Hagrid said, pulling Fang's collar to get him off of Fi, who brushed off her robes and grinned at them. "We're quite a pair, we are."

"Yeah, they're probably the most vicious duo at Hogwarts," Remus told Fi knowledgeably, grinning. "Next to Sirius and James."

Hagrid laughed and winked at Fi. "Dun listen t' him, Miss. We're about 's far from vicious as yeh c'n get."

"Ah, yes, I'd noticed." Fi glanced down at her watch and gasped. "Erm, Remus, we're late by five minutes."

"Bugger," he said mildly, shrugging at Hagrid. "We'd best go now."

Hagrid gave them a nod and began working at the pumpkin patch again, and Fang thumped his tail on the ground and barked noisily. Hagrid waved. "Come back an' visit when yeh c'n stay!"

"O' course! Nice to've met yeh!" Fi called over her shoulder, grabbing Remus' wrist and jogging toward the paddock. "Come on, you lazy prat--Kettleburn's going to be livid!"

*

It was Saturday morning, just before lunch, and pleasantly sunny outside, meaning perfect Quidditch conditions. Remus gathered up his books in his dormitory, rummaging through his trunk for any extra reading he might need, as well as his notes. James, standing in front of the mirror, was trying to get his hair to lie flat. "Moony, d'you know any spells that make hair cooperate?"

"I thought Lily liked your hair being…like that," Remus said vaguely, still searching for his copy of _Fantastic Beasts_. 

"Well…_She _might, but_ I_ think it looks stupid." He held his hair down firmly with his palm and looked pleadingly at Remus. "So how 'bout it?" 

Remus shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. I don't do hair, as you probably can tell." He indicated the dark brown mop of hair that was currently falling limply into his face, having lost the stubbornness it had possessed after the full moon.

James chuckled. "Where're you off to with your books? There's a match! Don't you want to see Ravenclaw completely torch Slytherin?"

"Oh, as if you'll be watching?" Remus said dryly. "As I understand it, you're accompanying Lily?"

"Yes," James sputtered indignantly, still facing the mirror. "To watch the match." He crossed his arms, reflection glaring at Remus and making him laugh. "What?"

Remus shrugged and shook his head, still chuckling. "Never mind."

"You never answered my question. Where're you off to with all your books?" James grinned, having found his tool for revenge. "Going to tutor Fiona again?"

"Yes," Remus answered mildly. "There's a Defense test on Monday, remember?"

James smirked at him, but just waved him away. Sighing, Remus left the dormitory, bag completely stuffed full of books, and headed down to the Great Hall for lunch and then studying.

*

"You're sure you don't want to go watch the match?" Remus pulled his books out of the bag, stacking them on the library table and ignoring the look she shot him. "Slytherin is playing, after all," he reminded her unnecessarily, sitting down.

Fiona shrugged, slumping into her chair. "I don't care about Quidditch. Or Slytherin. So I can miss the match." She looked at the floor, eyes narrowed, but then looked up at him and sighed.

Remus smiled sympathetically, wondering vaguely why she had ended up in Slytherin if she hated it so much. She just didn't seem the type. At all. Still, he had to at least _try_ to make her understand his point. "Fi, you're supposed to have...well..._loyalty_ towards your house," he said carefully, "whether you want to be there or not. It's...I dunno. You shoudn't feel so horrible about Slytherin." He thought vaguely of how proud James and Sirius were to be in Gryffindor, and how proud--however disgustingly--Snape and Malfoy were to be in Slytherin. It was Hogwarts tradition--everyone should feel proud about their house. Remus had pondered, during the sorting, going into Ravenclaw, but the hat had insisted that he'd do best in Gryffindor. As long as it was one of the two, he hadn't cared much. But Fiona obviously hadn't gotten her way during that unusually long sorting.

"Why in the world shouldn't I? It's where all the darkest wizards have come from, isn't it? And I'm there now." She pouted, eyebrows slanted in anger.

Ah. Now he understood. He sighed, setting the now-empty bookbag on the floor next to his chair and trying to get her to look at him. "Fiona, you're _not_ a dark witch, okay?"

"How do _you _know?" she asked stubbornly, still not looking at him. He was amused by the childish response, but kept his demeanor solemn.

"Because dark witches and wizards don't _want_ to be good. You do," he said truthfully, hoping she'd actually listen to what he said. She opened her mouth, most likely to say "How do _you_ know?" again, but he crossed his arms and shot her a look, and she decided against it. He sighed. "Fiona, McGonagall even said that each of the houses have produced wonderful witches and wizards. Not _all _of the Slytherins turn evil." She was paying attention now, if skeptically. "Look at Lily," he attempted. "She's not evil, is she?"

"Well, no, but--"

"Then you can't stereotype the Slytherins." Now he was just being a hypocrite, but maybe it would help her a little. "Personally, I can see why you don't think you belong there. I think you and Lily both belong in another house," he admitted, and she looked away, starting to get angry again. "Maybe Ravenclaw. But Lily tends to be somewhat short-tempered and is _quite_ capable of being vengeful." He thought vaguely of the time Sirius had teased her for her height in first year, which had been…somewhat below average. Rather than mention the rather interesting exchange that had followed, he smiled slightly and kept on with his original topic: "And she's clever and somewhat sly, you know that. Maybe that's what the hat saw in her." It sounded a bit far-fetched, even as he said it, but he just tried to keep going: "As for you, what's your bloodline?"

Fi looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. He wouldn't have brought up bloodlines--a normally touchy subject among students, due to the prejudice against Muggle-related wizards--but he had a feeling that they trusted each other enough. Fi confirmed this: "Well, I'm Muggle-born. Da's a farmer's son, Ma's from Dublin."

"You're sure?" he asked, and mentally kicked himself. _No, she's just _guessing_, _his mind berated him. _It's _her _bloodline, moron._

"Well, yes. I _do_ know my own bloodlines, after all." Fiona grinned at him and he smiled nervously back, but she stopped suddenly and looked angry again. "See? Lily has Slytherin traits, so even though she's Muggle-born, she has a reason for being there." She looked doubtful, but continued. "I'm a Muggle-born Irish _farmgirl_," she laughed, bitterly, but quickly looked crestfallen. "I mean... Do I have...You know...Slytherin-ish traits?" She looked at him pleadingly, and he shook his head.

"Not that I'm aware of." He opened one of his books, wishing she weren't so upset. He looked up at her, smiling. "You have a bit of a temper," he said lightly, and she smiled at him sheepishly, "but so does James, and he's basically the super-Gryffindor." He shrugged, shaking his head. "Maybe it was bungled," he said, giving up on other excuses. "I doubt it, though. That hat's not ever made a mistake. Everyone has been put in their house for a very good reason, though they may not know it yet." _Thank you, Professor Dumbledore._

Fi raised an eyebrow. "I hate it when you act so philosophical." She traced the patterns in the wooden table with her fingertip, smiling at nothing in particular.

He shrugged. "My point is, you can have friends and enemies anywhere, and you shouldn't stereotype people, like the Slytherins, based on prats like Malfoy, Snape, and Parkinson. Okay?" He could hear James laughing at such a statement, coming from him. Remus wasn't exactly the type to stand up for the Slytherins, under normal circumstances.

"Yes, but why am I in Slytherin, then?"

He shook his head, searching for an answer, and glanced at her, taking in the pleading expression--full lips in a frown, large, blue-gray eyes wide. His throat closed up and he had absolutely no response. He just watched her search his face, mind having gone rather blank. After a moment, though, he got embarrassed and remembered himself. He sighed, shaking his head and hoping she didn't think him odd for just staring like he had. "I don't know," he admitted, voice sounding strained, at least to him. He was tired of making up excuses. In reality, he felt the same way she did about her house placement. "Like I said, you'll probably know someday." Weak.

Fiona made a derisive noise in her throat, but nodded. Her eyes caught his and they sat like that for a moment, and Remus was about to try to find _something _to say, when they both jumped at the voice--"Wise words for something like _you_, Lupin."

The two of them whipped around in their seats to face Severus Snape, who was leaning casually against a nearby bookshelf, greasy, shoulder-length hair falling into his face and cold, black eyes positively boring into Remus' skull. Remus inwardly crumbled. _Oh, bugger._

Outwardly, though, he shrugged, not wanting to let Snape get a rise out of him. He put on his normal, mild voice. "I'll take that as a compliment, Severus," he said calmly, though he could hear his voice shaking, somewhat.

"What, not cheering Aaron and Lucius on?" Fiona said stiffly, watching Snape with the look of someone being hit with an extremely unpleasant realization. Remus wondered vaguely what that was about.

"Actually, Professor Blasphen asked me to come find you. Slytherins _are_ supposed to support their house, you know." A hint of a smile crossed his face, and Remus sighed tiredly. "I expect she'll be _most_ displeased to find that you were absent from the game to sit and chat in the library with a _Gryffindor_."

Ah, now he'd seen that coming. 

Fiona shrugged disdainfully, and Remus hoped, for everybody's sake, that she didn't say something too vulgar. "She's 'most displeased' with the mere sight of me. I don't really care at this point."

"Ahh, but see, it's not _you_ who needs to care." 

Remus withered inwardly as Snape turned to look at him, a nasty sneer playing about his lips. "Our beastly little friend here will be in trouble for detaining you. He doesn't get along very well with Professor Blasphen, either. She might just have to take a few points from Gryffindor, you know."

Remus cringed, tired of the werewolf references, which were obviously confusing Fiona, though she was trying to hide it. 

Fi just stared at Snape for a moment, disbelief etched across her face, and then shook her head, smiling too-sweetly at him. "You arrogant little bastard," she said, shaking her head and grimacing. She shot Remus a sorry half-smile that made him smile back at her automatically, accepting the apology, and swept all of her books across the table and into her open bag. "Okay, _Snape_," she said, eyebrows raised and eyes wide, "have it your way. Let me put away my books and I'll come watch the Testosterone-pumped _trolls_ do their thing."

Snape, Remus was pleased to see, looked rather startled at this. Remus smiled, but knew better than to do it openly. He covered his mouth with one hand, propping his elbow on the table, and Fi caught his eye triumphantly, a grin just below the surface of the haughty expression on her face.

She stood from her seat, loose hair swinging behind her, and pushed past Snape, knocking him sideways a bit, still with that lofty expression on her face. She slammed her hip into the door to open it, arms clasping her bookbag to her chest, and then she was gone, the door having swung shut behind her. Remus thought, appreciatively, that it had been quite an exit. He quickly stopped smiling, however, as Snape turned to him, positively livid. He was actually shaking with suppressed anger.

"What do you think you're _doing_, keeping her away from the match?" he hissed. "_You_ may not appreciate Slytherin, but if she's in this house, she needs to support it." 

Remus sighed, mouth open in condescending disbelief. _Oh, here we go._ "If you were actually listening to our conversation, which I have _no_ doubt you were, then you know I was _trying_ to get her to go to the match, and to respect your house." Snape obviously knew this, but wasn't going to admit it. Remus shook his head and sighed. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go back to my common room--"

"Not so fast, Lupin!" Snape said with such dramatic passion that Remus actually laughed, though scathingly. "Have you ever even _thought_ about the possibilities of this? Of what _could_ happen to her?"

__

Oh, shit. Can't leave it out of a single _conversation, can you, you slimy git? _"What d'you mean?" he asked in a low voice, knowing perfectly well where this conversation was going. He was ignoring the sensible voice in his head that was saying to just ignore Snape and go back to his common room.

"What if you attacked her? Bit her? _Killed_ her?" 

It occurred to Remus that he'd probably had this all scripted in his head. 

"You're putting her in danger by letting her get attached to you. What if something were to happen?" Snape crossed his arms, thick, black eyebrows raised, and stared at Remus victoriously.

Remus scowled, losing his feigned calmness. _Oh, for the love of-- _"She's not attached..." he said impatiently.

Snape just sneered. "'Not attached?' You saw her. She was sitting about six inches away from you before I--"

His patience had just flown away. Right out the library window. "Might I suggest, 'allowed my scent to wander'? You probably scared her off, swooping over like some overgrown, smelly nocturnal animal." Remus had, somewhere in the course of that last statement, lost control and stood up, now eye to cold black eye with Snape.

The Slytherin snorted. "Whatever. The point is, you're a danger to her. Stop playing with your prey."

Remus' jaw dropped, an expression he usually considered uncouth, and several insults that only Sirius would have the bravado to say aloud leapt to his mind. Remembering this, he quickly closed it. "You…are _way_ out of line, Snape," he growled slowly, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Am I?" he murmured silkily, eyebrows raised. "What happens when she gets curious as to where you go each month? What happens when she decides to follow you, O Feral One, and finds out the same thing I did last year? James won't be there to save her, too."

The thought had occurred to Remus. It must have shown up in his face, for Snape smiled rather wickedly. Remus wondered why was Snape was even bothering with this. Usually, his nastiness was reserved for James, and was only distributed to Remus in small doses, whenever the Slytherins felt he'd gotten too much peace lately. Why did the git care so much? The Slytherins all _hated _Fi; she gave them a bad reputation, she was Muggle-born, she was everything Slytherin stood _against! _Why did Snape care? And then…it finally dawned on Remus, and he absolutely couldn't believe it. He could hardly get his mouth around the words: "You're jealous, aren't you?"

Snape raised his eyebrows. "Don't flatter yourself," he said, visibly unsettled, but trying to hide it. "I'm merely concerned that you might inflict pain and misery, or even _death_, upon some ignorant girl who's too busy fawning over you to notice the danger."

Remus said nothing. He stared at Snape in disbelief and then shook his head, a fit of fury coming on. He didn't want Snape to know he'd gotten to him like this. Swearing quite fervently in his head, he crammed his books into his bag, trying not to allow his hands to shake, and stalked stiffly out of the library, leaving a rather satisfied-looking Snape behind him.

***

Remus swore quite creatively, not to mention loudly, and kicked his bedpost, slumping down onto the floor and putting his head in his hands, gripping his hair with shaking fingers. Sirius poked a head through the bathroom door, and Remus groaned, having thought he was the only one in the dormitory. Now he'd have to explain this.

"Wow. Didn't think you were capable, Moony." Sirius strode into the room wearing his bathrobe, toweling his dark hair dry. "I mean," he added, shooting a grin at Remus that wasn't returned, "I didn't even know you _knew _those kinds of words." He noticed his friend's lack of response and looked slightly concerned. "Hey, what's up with you?"

"Shit," Remus said fervently, ignoring Sirius.

"Yes, we've…established that much," Sirius said slowly. "So…?" Suddenly, his eyebrows snapped together. "Hey, is this something to do with Snape?" he said in a dangerously low voice. "What's that asshole done now?"

Remus didn't answer. His hands just fell into his lap and he shook his head. "Nothing," he half-whispered, half-murmured. 

Sirius snorted. "What do you take me for, an ignorant moron who can't take a hint?" he said dramatically, trying a grin. Remus looked at him sourly, not wanting to share the joke. Sirius somewhat crumbled at this reaction. "Right," he said, finally realizing that this wasn't something to joke about, whatever it was. "Want me to go teach Snape some humility?" he said softly, sitting down next to Remus, who steadfastly avoided his gaze. 

"No," Remus muttered, shaking his head and lifting his hands to his head again. "Just…No."

Sirius was really quite concerned now, he could tell. Remus just glared at his hands. Sirius sighed softly and clapped a firm hand on his shoulder. "I dunno what's happened, Moony, and I'm not so stupid that I don't realize it was bad, whatever it was, and that you don't want to talk about it. So I'll leave you alone, because that's obviously what you want." It was unnerving, hearing Sirius be so…well…serious. "But if you want to talk about it later, I'm here, and so is James." He smiled weakly. "Technically, so is Peter, but if you want something done about it, I'd suggest you try me and James."

Remus didn't say anything.

"Shit, this _must _be bad," Sirius muttered, standing up and slowly leaving the dormitory. "You didn't even correct my _grammar_."

Remus didn't answer.

*

****

A/N: *sniffle* Poor Moony! Don't you just want to bop Snape in the nose now? Grr…I'd forgotten what an arse he was in this chapter… Okay, well, that was really, _really _fun to write. I'll do the next one soon (I'm waiting a bit on Lost, and Ebony's got to do the next chapter on the original Fa, so this is my entertainment in-between my two main fics), and please review if you liked this--I enjoy hearing from you and it makes it all the more fun for me!

Next time: Guilt, anger, agression…Of the Dark Side they are. Heehee…No, but seriously (Aaah! Sirius-ly!), Remus sulks and feels guilty about everything, as he has decided that everything wrong with the universe (or, at least, Hogwarts) is his fault, James and Sirius are concerned, the full moon comes again (there's a lot more emphasis on that in this version of the story, isn't there?), and all kinds of interesting crap happens. Check back for updates. ^-^


	4. Angst, Angst, Angst...

Disclaimer: I don't own Remus (unfortunately) or anyone else really interesting ****

Disclaimer: I don't own Remus (unfortunately) or anyone else really interesting. I own Fi McLellan, and Annelle Jensen, and Blasphen (also unfortunately). Erm…Don't sue me.

****

A/N: Hee…I'm just having so much fun writing this. Here's the deal: I skipped chapter 3 of Fa, because it was short and all about Fi with nobody else really involved except perhaps Lily. Chapter 5 of Fa's pretty much the same, with a few Remus-moments and such (well, he's avoiding her, if you lot remember correctly), so I'm going on to the tragedies of Chapter 6, too. Angst, angst, angst…

One really quick thing: I realized that I made a rather tremendous mistake, and I wouldn't draw attention to it except for the fact that I think you guys would have caught it and it would have made me look like a complete idiot. It didn't occur to me when writing the first version of Fa that they didn't have Quidditch on Sundays. I made the match on Sunday in that, and it's on a Saturday in this. So there's an extra day of Lupin-sulking in this version. I'll go back and fix it in one of the versions if I ever get 'round to it. At any rate, I doubt it's terribly noticeable, but it's a problem, nonetheless. Sorry about that--I'm not as good a writer by far as Cassandra Claire (whose stuff I've just started reading, and am now outraged that they took her account away!).

Okay, have fun, and thanks for reviewing! I love you for it!

~ Veralidaine

****

A Companion to _Fa A Bhialainn Ann_, Chapter 4

__

By Veralidaine

the winter here's cold, and bitter

it's chilled us to the bone

we haven't seen the sun for weeks

too long too far from home

I feel just like I'm sinking

and I claw for solid ground

I'm pulled down by the undertow

I never thought I could feel so low

oh darkness I feel like letting go

if all of the strength and all of the courage

come and lift me from this place

I know I could love you much better than this

full of grace

full of grace

my love

--_ Full of Grace_, by Sarah McLachlan, from the album _Surfacing_

Sunday morning, Remus slept in late. This was rather unusual for him--he hated to sleep past about ten, due to the feeling of having significantly cut his day short, and therefore limited the work he could get done. When this sort of thing occurred to him, he wondered why he wasn't in Hufflepuff. He felt, though, that he wasn't going to get much of anything done after a night of lying awake thinking vaguely about how much he hated his life. So he slept until after lunch, and even when he finally dragged himself out of his little haven behind the curtains of his four-poster, he wasn't hungry and absolutely dreaded going down to the Great Hall. He reasoned that this was normal and he wasn't going mad, because he always lost his appetite going into the full moon, and then it came back quite strongly after. But he really wasn't fooling himself. He wasn't that stupid.

He was currently sitting on his bed, the curtains parted sloppily, staring at his socks (which he had, at some point, decided to put on, but then sort of fallen into another depressed daze and forgotten all about), when the door flew open and Sirius and James, followed by a somewhat reluctant Peter, came tramping into the room. Remus came out of his daze quite immediately and blinked at them all as if surprised to see them there despite the fact that it was their dormitory, too. Their faces were grim, and after a moment he got tired of their staring at him. "What?"

"Something's up with you," James said bluntly, not being one to avoid an important subject.

Remus sighed, shoulders sagging. "Sirius, you great prat."

"Oh, what, you honestly think Sirius had to _tell _us you were acting barmy?" James said indignantly to that, while Sirius just sort of stared at Remus, his mouth set in a straight line. "Really, Remus, what do you take us for?"

"Feel free not to answer that," Sirius said, weakly attempting to force some humor into the situation.

Remus raised his eyebrows. "I feel like I'm being interrogated about being a werewolf _all over again_," he said dully, looking at them all with eyes that quite obviously betrayed the calmness he was feigning. "Why are you so concerned?"

"Well…It's almost the full moon. I mean…You're our friend, aren't you?" James looked at Remus intently, making him feel guilty, but not enough to change his mind about what he was doing. James raised his eyebrows. "What, you're just going to sit there and glare at us?"

Sirius elbowed James noticeably in the ribs and, shooting him a look, leaned against his own four-poster, which was next to Remus', and caught his eye. "Look, Moony, you've been acting depressed. Prongs here doesn't exactly have a way with words, as you know. He's been hit by bludgers too often." He ignored the indignant look on James' face. "Work with us, here." Sirius crossed his arms, his back against one of the posts at the foot of his bed. "What happened yesterday in the library? You were fine before you went to tutor Fiona."

Yes, Remus supposed, Sirius had never been one to avoid an important subject, either. But he was even more blunt than James. After all, he'd been the one who, right out, said, "Are you a werewolf?" He wasn't exactly the type for the basic introductory, "Lovely weather we're having lately, don't you think?" comments. 

Remus sighed. "Nothing."

"Did she say something mean to you?" Peter said timidly, and Remus was rather touched to see that he actually looked concerned. "I mean, girls can be _really _mean sometimes…Especially Slytherins." He turned to James hurriedly, and was met with a slightly amused look. "With the exception of Lily, of course…I didn't mean--"

"Just…quit while you're ahead," James advised with a grin, but quickly sobered as he turned back to Remus. "Really, Moony, did she do something to you?"

"Rather," Sirius said, without a trace of sarcasm, "did she _say _something to you? Did she find out or something? Because we can send Lily after her to straighten her out, if you like."

"_No_," Remus said forcefully, making them all jump, as he'd been silent for quite awhile. "No…" He ran a hand through his still-ungroomed hair. "Fi…She didn't do anything. She did _absolutely nothing _wrong, so don't go and yell at her, okay?" He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "She's alright. Leave her alone."

"When you say, 'she did absolutely nothing wrong,' d'you really mean, 'she yelled at me and was evil but I deserve it since I'm a horrible monster,'?" Sirius said, once again demonstrating how painfully straightforward he could be at times. "Because you tend to convince yourself of that sort of thing, even though it's not true."

Remus made an annoyed sound in his throat without meaning to. "I am _not _wallowing in _self-pity_, here, Sirius." He glared up at his friend, who was still leaning against his bedpost, arms crossed stubbornly. "Fiona did nothing. I mean it. She doesn't even know I'm…" He stopped. What? A werewolf? A liar? Not planning on ever speaking to or looking at her again? _Bloody hell…_ He swallowed hard. "Just drop it."

"No, we won't drop it," James said firmly, likewise crossing his arms, but standing resolutely in front of Remus, eyebrows raised. Peter was even looking insistent. "You're not acting right, and we want to know what it is."

"I told you to drop it."

"No," James said fervently. "Look, we can't have you skulking around being all--"

"_Just drop it!_" Remus hissed, and James shut right up, staring at him in barely concealed surprise. Remus was usually quite calm. He sighed and ran a hand over his eyes. He swallowed hard, knowing what he was about to say wouldn't go over well at all. "Look, I don't think you lot should come with me when…During the full moon."

Sirius' jaw dropped and his arms fell to his sides. "_What?!_"

Remus glared up at him, brow furrowed. "You heard me. I want to just go alone this time. To the Shrieking Shack. I can't hurt anyone that way."

James sighed and started to say, "Well…if that's what you want…" but Sirius leapt in angrily:

"_What the hell are you on about?_ Oh, this _was_ Snape, wasn't it? That asshole! I'll deal with him--" He thrust his thumb at his chest in angry self-indication "--you want me to deal with him?--I'll deal with him! He won't be able to sit his sorry ass down for six months when I'm through!" He smacked his fist into his other hand violently.

Remus took a very deep breath to keep from yelling. "_No, _Sirius, I do _not _want you to deal with him," he said loudly, and Sirius stopped ranting to look at him curiously.

"Why not?"

Remus stood up from the bed, making the springs squeak, and grabbed a towel and a clean set of robes (he'd worn yesterday's as pajamas). "I'm going to take a shower."

He almost expected Sirius to make some angry comment at being snubbed, but there was just an awkward, slightly stunned silence in the dormitory. Remus ignored it and, slamming the door behind him, pounded angrily down the stairs into the common room. Annelle called something to him from her place by the fire--most likely some question about her Defense homework--but he ignored this, too, and, slamming the portrait door behind him, he headed towards the prefects' bathroom.

Thankfully, it was quite vacant (most people didn't think to take a bath at one o'clock in the afternoon), and Remus angrily threw his spare clothes and towel into a nearby chair. He was glad it was vacant, not only because he was angry and never had been the type who wanted to share a giant bath anyway, but also because it would be a lot easier not to do the usual concealment charms on his scars.

Really, no one had ever had to share a bath in the male prefects' bathroom, despite the fact that it was a large place meant to hold more than one person--like the locker room showers, but nicer. It didn't work that way. If one person was in the bathroom and another came in, the first one usually was quick to finish their business there and leave--it was, and always would be, an unwritten and yet universal rule: _unless it's absolutely unavoidable, most men_ (keyword being _most_--there are exceptions to any rule, of course, but we don't need to go there in this particular story) _will **never** bathe with other men_. And, really, unwritten and yet universal rule number two, _most men do **not**, unless it's **absolutely** unavoidable, look at other men while bathing_, rather limited the need for him to worry, but he did anyway. 

At any rate, Remus was self-conscious enough about the self-inflicted scars that he was usually quite careful. And, to be truthful, he'd never really run into having to share the bathroom--once again returning to unwritten and yet universal rule number one--generally, men do not like to share a bathroom. Still, though, he would put concealment charms on himself so as not to scare the living daylights out of anyone, should they see him without a shirt. Remus, for one, knew that if he were an ordinary person and saw some kid covered with nasty, deep scars from who-knew-where, he'd be fairly alarmed. And, really, _he _didn't want to see them on _himself_.

He glared at his reflection, balling up his shirt. There weren't so many scars on his back as on his chest, due to the fact that it's fairly impossible to scratch your back up when in wolf form. He scowled, more than unhappy at the reflection that scowled back. The scars, though Madam Pomfrey had done her best to heal them, would always be there. Another constant reminder of everything he hated about himself.

Suffice to say taking a bath did not help his mood.

*

And then it was Monday. Classes. Fiona…

Remus cringed inwardly, feeling ill as he glared at the canopy above his bed. He absolutely did not want to go to classes today. Remus Lupin wasn't the type to tell people that he was ill when he wasn't, but he decided he'd make an exception today. He just couldn't go to breakfast and classes--his friends would latch onto him, wanting to _talk_, and Fiona would try to find him afterwards to walk to class. The idea made him sick to his stomach. He really had begun to wonder what he felt towards Fiona, but now that thought had been squelched and he wasn't planning on ever reviving it.

He sat up in bed, pulled on his shoes, and started for the door, but a strong hand grabbed his arm and he turned around, tiredly. It was, of course, Sirius, who had just emerged from the bathroom, hair neatly combed out, robes in an unusually straightened state, which would probably change as the day progressed. Remus frowned. "What?"

Sirius looked at him through dark eyes, still firmly gripping his arm. "Where're you going?"

"Hospital wing. I think I'm going to be ill." Without further explanation, Remus wrenched his arm free and stomped down the stairs, into the commons, heading for the familiarity of the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey was surprised to see him. "I wasn't expecting you for a few more days, Remus. Are you sick?"

He nodded, feeling guilty but pounding that back with the potential worse feeling of guilt that he was avoiding by coming here.

Madam Pomfrey put a hand to his forehead. "You're not feverish at all. You don't look well, but that could be a number of things." She looked at him, eyebrows raised. "What's making you feel ill?"

__

My conscience. "Stomach," he said dully. "Can I have a lie-down?"

"Fine," she consented, but her voice was rather stern. "But I'm sending you back to class for second period. You don't seem too ill, and I've a suspicion that this is all nerves over something." She smiled grimly. "You'd be surprised how many cases of nerves I get in here, but unfortunately, the remedy for that doesn't come in a bottle or a quick little charm." With those parting words of wisdom, she went to check on a first-year Ravenclaw who'd managed to curse several of her fingers off while attempting a manicure.

True to her word, Madam Pomfrey kicked Remus out of the hospital wing when the chimes rang after first period, and he left quickly, wanting to get to Gryffindor tower and collect his books without having to talk to anyone. He walked quickly across the entrance hall and towards the staircase, hearing footsteps behind him and desperately hoping it was nobody he knew. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard a familiar Irish brogue call out, "Remus!"

__

Oh, no. He felt his stomach tie itself into a knot. He couldn't talk to her. He couldn't. It was for her own good--he'd hurt her if he didn't keep her away, like he knew he'd hurt anyone close to him. She'd think she could trust him and then one day he'd bite her and she'd never forgive him--he was dangerous and a monster and could never…He turned around, knowing it was no use. He had a mind to just keep walking up the stairs, but the unpleasant feeling in his chest was so painful that he just couldn't make himself. He turned around. "Fi, I…uhm…I can't talk right now. I have to…erm…go to my dorm and…ah…get some books and--" He was aware of how unintelligible he sounded, but she interrupted him before he could try to stop his rambling.

"Drop it," she panted, and he wondered sickly if she'd run to catch him up. He stopped listening and set his jaw for what he had to do. "… to warn you--"

He wasn't listening. He'd decided he wouldn't, because it would just make it harder. "I have to go, Fi, I can't talk."

"Remus, you don't understand--"

"No," he said, surprising himself at the severity in his voice. He knew the charade he was attempting wasn't working--the look on his face obviously was quite tormented. "Fi…I have to go." He just stared at her for a moment. "Get on to class."

Fiona seemed to have just stopped breathing. She stared at him in alarm, unused to such a tone of voice. They had always, Remus remembered, feeling guilt twist his insides, been only polite and kind to each other. Fi shook her head, confused, but plowed on at whatever she was trying to get at. "Wha-?...Remus, I--"

He cringed. "Go on!" he said, shooing her vaguely. The look on her face was awful. She looked so very betrayed that it was actually unbearable, and he abruptly turned and hurtled up the staircase, refusing to look back at the bottom, knowing that the confused hurt he'd see there, evident on her face, might very well put him over the edge.

*

The next few days positively snailed past. Remus avoided everyone. He didn't want to talk with James or Sirius, and he hated that Fiona was still trying to follow him like a loyal but wounded puppy. She gave up halfway through that first day, though, and Remus was relieved, for her sake, that she had. He, himself, felt like something that had been swept from the floor of a hyppogriff stall, and this feeling was not banished when Lily came to talk to him.

It all occurred the day before the full moon. Remus had retreated to the lake, as Sirius and James had come into the dormitory and were trying to get him to talk to them again. He'd decided he needed to leave. He was sitting, back against a large rock at the end of the lake opposite the castle, looking out across the water, when a redheaded somebody appeared, running along the side of the lake, presumably towards him. Remus sighed angrily, having come to the lake to be alone and as peaceful as he could be before he left for the Shrieking Shack, which he was absolutely dreading.

Of course, it turned out to be Lily (who else at school had hair like that?), and she reached him and stopped jogging, bending and bracing her hands on her knees, hair falling loose from her ponytail and into her face in coppery strands. "Hey," --_pant_-- "Remus..."

"Hey."

"How are things?"

"Fine."

"Really?" She straightened, breathing more normally now, green eyes looking at him in a way that reminded him rather forcefully of his mother, when she was questioning him about something. "That's not the impression I got."

"Oh, shit," he said mildly, shaking his head. "This is going to be another interrogation session, isn't it? James sent you, didn't he?"

"No," Lily stated, still giving him that inquiring look. "No one sent me. I came of my own accord."

"Oh?" Remus said dubiously.

"Yes," Lily replied, leaning up against the rock next to him and looking out over the lake. "Why did you do that to Fi?"

"She sent you?" His voice was rather weak.

"Nope." Lily turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. "I'm here on my own; I told you." She bent and picked up a handful of pebbles, starting to throw them into the water thoughtfully. "But Fi's my friend, and I do actually care about her." She tossed another pebble. "And she's really quite hurt."

"Is she?" Now his voice just sounded very vague.

"Yes," Lily answered promptly. "Fi's not a trusting person. You have to work quite hard to earn it." Another pebble _plipped _into the water. "Myself, I muted Narcissa. And I was friendly." She looked at him thoughtfully. "You just were always polite and respectful from the start, I think. You shook her hand first thing, when the other boys were too thrown by a new presence. You saved her from those three goons that first night. You still were friendly to her even though she was a Slytherin." She shook her head and tossed another small stone into the water. "You were a big help to her, though she probably didn't ever say so. She was new here, and you made life just a little easier."

He cringed, knowing what the next words would be--

"And then you go and turn your back on her."

Remus sighed, his stomach twisting up into a knot again. Lily was a bit less blunt than James and Sirius, but absolutely got her point across.

Lily shook her head again and tossed another rock into the lake. Suddenly a huge tentacle reared up out of the water and warningly smacked the surface, splashing them both. Lily dropped the pebbles to the ground, holding her palms up defensively. "Okay, okay!" she muttered. "Sorry…" 

She turned, messy ponytail dripping water now, and climbed up on top of the rock they'd been leaning against. Remus stayed where he was, ignoring the water that was now dripping from his bangs. 

Lily sighed. "My point is, Remus, I've no idea what made you do that, but I _do _know that whatever it is must be a damn good reason, because that's not your style." She brought her knees up to her chin, surveying the now-calm surface of the lake from the high point at which she was seated. "And I wish you'd tell me so I can stop making up excuses for Fi. She doesn't question me about it, just sighs a lot and tries to pretend she's not watching you from across the Great Hall."

Remus sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, _I_ do." She pursed her lips. "I have been harboring the suspicion that you fancy her a bit. Am I right?"

"No." Remus knew he sounded rather muffled, so he just didn't meet her eyes and gazed out across the lake, frowning at nothing in particular. It was silent for a long while.

Then Lily leaned over and clipped him on his head--which she could reach, while on the rock--with her knuckles, making him cringe and pull away, muttering "_Oww…_"

"Remus, dear, you are being a twit. And I think we both know that you aren't really as mean as you're being. Or as stupid."

"I'm not going to have this conversation," Remus said and, levering himself to a standing position from against the rock, started back towards the castle. He was pushing everyone away; turning into a classic depression case. He knew. Somewhere inside him, he actually cared, too. That part of him (probably also the same one that was so reckless at the dance) knew that Snape was just being a git, and he should ignore it. But Remus had always felt that it was dangerous for him to have close friends, and hearing someone echo his thoughts aloud…Well, it made it all much less his uneasiness and much more a reality. One that he couldn't drag everyone else into. It was _his_ cursed life; he had to live it alone.

Lily just let him go without saying anything. And the part of him that had been hoping she'd call him back gave up.

*

Remus shuddered violently, returning to human form with the familiar, body-rearranging pain that seemed to last forever, but in reality, only took up about ten minutes. He just stayed on the floor, breathing raggedly. His chest was stinging from several new cuts due to his having nothing to scratch at but himself. Feeling sick, he put his hand up to one cut--he couldn't bring himself to raise his head--and it came back quite bloody.

Groaning, he sat up, bracing himself with shaking arms. He wasn't used to this. He hadn't been confined to the Shrieking Shack alone in ages. He looked around the room at the tattered furniture and the dust that covered all flat surfaces--well, the surfaces he hadn't been on. It was cold and drafty and unpleasant, and he shivered again, fighting the urge to be sick all over the dusty, claw-scratched floor. 

Suddenly, his ears picked up on something. There was a wrenching noise from one of the lower floors, like wood being pulled apart. He wouldn't have noticed it normally, but then, he wasn't exactly normal, at the moment, was he? Pulling on a set of robes--he'd kept a few in a dresser in the master bedroom to spare himself the embarrassment of walking through the hallways to the hospital wing in tattered clothes--he tried to ignore the throbbing pain of the wounds to his chest and creaked down the stairs. He got to the first floor and heard faint whispers. He just managed to see two robed backs heading away from a window, which had been relieved of the boards that had until just recently covered it. 

Remus wondered vaguely why someone would want to open a window on _this_ house, of all places, and decided to mention it to Dumbledore. After all, sometimes students got an idea that they'd face the evil spirits in "the most haunted dwelling in Britain," and Dumbledore could probably put a good barring spell on it. But it was at that moment that the door flew open and Professors Blasphen, Tripwort, and Kettleburn came charging in. There was so much sudden shouting and brandishing of wands that Remus actually yelled in surprise and stepped backwards. Kettleburn was shouting orders to Blasphen and Tripwort in much the same manner as he addressed students in class when dealing with a particularly malicious creature that had started thrashing to free itself of its bindings. 

Tripwort, being Lupin's favorite professor (Defense, obviously), was looking a bit hesitant, but followed orders nonetheless. Blasphen, on the other hand, pointed her wand like a fencing sword and yelled, "_Securo_!"

Chains shot from nowhere and bound Remus' hands behind his back, and then his ankles, causing him to fall over, writhing, to the floor. Kettleburn nodded towards the window as the shouting and chaos (amazingly only caused by four people) died down somewhat. "That's how he got loose, then."

"_What?_" Remus tried to ask, but he'd been gagged, too, somewhere in the earlier confusion.

Blasphen glared down at him, a kind of awful satisfaction on her face. "I told you, that first week when you came here, that you did not belong here, with your affliction. I told Dumbledore not to admit you. But, of course, neither of you listened. Now, I hope, you'll both see my point." She scowled at him. "He's too old for a job like this. Admitting werewolves and fae-speakers…"

Remus had time to wonder vaguely who the hell this fae-speaker she was on about was, but then Kettleburn had shouted, "_Mobilicorpus_!" and Remus was floating through the air towards the castle, to be locked in Flitwicks office, charged with a crime he wasn't even aware of.

*

He was having the oddest dreams, which involved falling endlessly. No matter how long he fell, it was still just as horrible and frightening, and it seemed he would never hit the bottom. He finally woke up, but didn't open his eyes. He didn't have the energy. He was completely sapped after the full moon, and his "crime" had been explained to him by Professor Blasphen, as he'd been deemed "too savage" to remember what he'd done.

But he hadn't done it.

And he knew he hadn't done it. He'd been in the Shrieking Shack the whole time, _for that very reason_. He'd taken every precaution…He just kept his eyes shut, drifting in and out of sleep. Somewhere in all of the odd dreams, he thought he heard the door open. He kept his eyes shut. He didn't want to face whoever had come to beat the crap out of him, or question him, or cart him off to Azkaban. Or use a silver bullet. 

But then there was a shuffling noise, and he sensed someone sitting near him. Cold fingers touched his forehead and he yelped, making the owner of the cold fingers yelp, and started, hurling himself backward into his corner, opening his eyes to see--

__

Oh, no. Oh no oh no oh no… It was just too much. Fi's eyes were wide and her skin was almost translucently pale. She looked almost as tired as he felt. Almost. He hid his face in his hands. Oh, God, she'd come to see him. After all he'd done, she'd come to see him. _Him_. His throat closed up, but he shook his head, willing the stinging in his eyes to go away. He may not have been quite as proud as James or Sirius, but he still had to hold onto some shred of dignity, and he wasn't going to cry. He wasn't. His shoulders shook violently from the effort, and then suddenly he was wrapped in a hug.

He buried his face in Fi's shoulder, feeling tears start to leak out of his eyes, despite his will, which was contracting his throat and burning his lungs with the effort. He _wouldn't cry, dammit!_ She ran a hand through his hair gently and he choked. "Fi, I didn't do it," he murmured, voice sounding horribly strained. He continued talking into her shoulder, knowing that if he looked up he absolutely would lose his grip on his emotions. "…I dunno who did, but I swear…I didn't do it…" His voice cracked and he wanted to hit himself.

"Of course you didn't," she responded, voice reverberating in her chest and sounding muffled to Remus, who was still unable to raise his head from her shoulder. She trusted him. What had he been doing, just betraying her like that? 

Fiona took in a ragged breath. "Oh, what are they thinking?" she said hoarsely. "You couldn't've! I'll go talk to Dumbledore and get you out of here…" 

He shook his head, throat constricting again. He swallowed. "Actually, I could have…" he mumbled, and felt her arms tighten around him. "For all everyone knows, it's very possible. What's the point?" He was actually shaking. He was panicking, what with the guilt and the fear and the anger of the situation, all under pressure somewhere around his lungs, it felt like. "Let them lock me up," he said bitterly. "I don't care. It'd be better that way." He knew he _was_ wallowing in self-pity now, but he didn't care. At the moment, it sounded good. Any option in which he could go to sleep and never have to face the world again was looking really good. Maybe they'd just let him die in Azkaban.

"No, don't..." Fi hissed, sounding deathly afraid. "Don't talk like that."

His throat constricted again and he lost his grip, and lashed out. "Why the hell shouldn't I?" he yelled angrily, pulling away from her embrace and looking at the wall, knowing as he did it that he was acting horribly. He ran his fingers roughly through his already-wild hair. "It's going to happen!" 

"You don't know that...Everything will be okay, Remus--"

Who was she trying to kid? "No, it won't! It never is!" It all was pouring out now. "I go through this once a month, and have for years and years, and I will for the rest of my life! I can never have a family for fear of attacking or killing one of them! I can never get work! I will be shunned from the wizarding world for the rest of my life! Why not lock me up? Put me out of my misery now!" He flailed his arms about wildly for emphasis, probably looking quite deranged, but not caring. 

"Just stop it!" Fi shouted at him, tired eyes wide and rimmed with tears. She just didn't get it.

"No, you stop!" he hissed angrily, pointing an accusatory finger. "You haven't the _slightest _idea what it's like..."

He'd done it now, and he knew it. She'd come to see him, even though he'd completely _snubbed_ her, and had tried to comfort him, and he'd gone and yelled at her. Fiona just backed away from him, wretchedly, covering her mouth with one hand and trying visibly to keep her shoulders from shaking. Remus swallowed hard. "Fi, I--" he began, but she shook her head at him, hair falling into her face. His throat closed again, but he forced words out. "Fi, please…"

She looked up at him, eyes wide and blazing in anger. She looked about to say something, but her face softened suddenly and she held out her arms for him, throat working. He accepted the invitation gladly and buried his face in her shoulder again, wrapping his arms around her and, for once, not worrying what someone might think.

"Nothing's going to happen, Remus, I promise," she murmured into his ear, giving him a quick squeeze.

"You can't promise that." He tried to get his breathing to return to normal, but his throat was still burning as he fought tears.

"I just did. And I meant it."

He squeezed her tighter without meaning to. "I just..." His voice broke and he trailed off, furious with himself. What must she think of him?

She squeezed him tightly back. "Shhh..."

__

No. Dammit! No! His eyes welled up and he suppressed the burning in his lungs as best he could, knowing the inevitable would happen any moment…His shoulders shook and he just went limp. It was too much. He couldn't do it anymore. He let himself cry, albeit quietly. Fi pulled him away after a moment, small hands on his shoulders.

"Oh, come now..." Her eyes searched his face, and he wiped his eyes quickly, hating himself for losing control. 

"God, I'm tired of this..." he murmured. She pulled him into her arms again and he buried his face in her shoulder, letting himself go limp. "I'll always be blamed. Why did I have to have been so stupid? Why couldn't I have stayed away from that forest when I was small? Why?" He suppressed the burning feeling in his lungs as best he could, but it was, of course, in vain. He'd given up. On everything.

She squeezed her arms tighter around him and he sat up, wiping his eyes furiously. He took a long, deep breath, and Fi reached over and brushed his hair out of his face, threatening to make his lungs burn again with suppressed tears. He managed a ragged sigh. "I'm sorry, Fi. I just..."

They both looked up suddenly as the door opened and Filch, Remus' guard for the moment, stepped in cautiously, eyeing Remus the way one might a sleeping manticore. "You'll have to leave, now, Miss McLellan. The minister arrives in about ten minutes."

Minister. Ah, yes. His impending doom. He'd almost forgotten, what with trying not to cry. Something inside him deflated as the reality of the situation sunk in. He would be sentenced to Azkaban. God, he would never see any of his friends again.

He looked up to see that Fi had stood obediently, though she looked a bit shaky. She stared at him, a terrified expression on her face, but then shook her head and turned to Filch. "Yes, sir," she said in a meek sort of voice and, casting a final glance at Remus, started towards the door.

She looked so _scared_. For _him_. Remus swallowed roughly. "Fi?"

She turned, shakily. "Yes?" she said hoarsely, and her voice wavered, dangerously close to tears. She was doing an admirable job hiding them, though. _Better than _I _did, anyway,_ he thought bitterly.

He looked at her, taking her in for what he was sure would be the last time. He swallowed hard. "It'll be okay," he said in a low voice, knowing he was lying through his teeth, but wanting to comfort her as she had him.

She nodded quickly, biting her lip to keep from crying, and swiftly left the room with one hand over her mouth. He heard her break into quiet sobs a few feet down the hallway as Filch shut the door and the locking charm descended upon the room with an ominous _click_.

*

A/N: This is turning out to be dead depressing, isn't it? Poor Moony… *sniffle* Well, things turn up in the next chapter, of course. Fi promised, after all, and she'll follow through. Is it making more sense now, Fa readers, that Lupin was willing to go on a rather mad chase to find her when Voldie took her?

I know, I should be working on Lost or something, but this is just _way _too fun to write…I just adore Remus. ^-^

Okay, well, thanks go to Ayleeandra, ~Aurora~, Loony Loopy Lupin, Tyria Bell, and ~*tiNkERbeLl*~. You guys rock! Thanks for the encouragement!

~ Veralidaine


	5. The Trial

****

Disclaimer: I own Fiona McLellan and a few random names that don't really even make a difference. Rudyard Kipling owns a name in there, too, just because I'm a dork. J.K. Rowling the Brilliant owns everybody else. Except Sapphira, who is owned by Ebony Foxfire. Yep. But she's not even mentioned as of yet.

****

A/N: Wow. Have I been slacking, or what? School, school and, for a nice change of pace, _more school_. And I really don't like A Tale of Two Cities as much as I probably should, considering all the "it's a classic!" stuff I've been hearing about it. Grr… Literature class. ANYway, my Harry Potter obsession has been slightly curbed as of late by my new, and probably quite permanent obsession with J.R.R. Tolkein's Lord of the Rings trilogy, which is quite amazing. NOT that I don't care about Harry Potter. I've just been spending far too much time going to see Lord of the Rings. Like, four times. That's twelve hours. Gosh. I'm such a geek. ANYWAY, I need to stop rambling.

Last time, there was basically a lot of rather badly-written (hey, first real try here, guys) angst. Now we move on to the trial and such…

****

A Companion to _Fa A Bhialainn Ann_, Chapter 5

__

by Veralidaine

You take me in

No questions asked

You strip away the ugliness

That surrounds me

Are you an angel?

Am I already that gone?

I only hope

That I won't disappoint you

When I'm down here

On my knees

And sweet

Sweet Surrender

Is all that I have to give

-- _Sweet Surrender_, by Sarah McLachlan, from the album _Surfacing_

****

It was very cold. That described it quite well, if not very imaginatively. Remus absolutely could not sleep, what with nerves, lack of heat, and that awful problem of coming up with all of the really terrible things that were very likely going to happen to him within a short amount of time. All in all, this was the most miserable he'd been in a very long time. A _very_ long time.

His parents had been owled, and as soon as they'd got the message, he was sure his mother (and probably father, too) would Apparate on the spot and make sure he wasn't hurt. That wasn't as reassuring as he would have liked it to be, however. The whole affair was just humiliating to him. The entirety of Hogwarts was going to wonder just where he had gone, and eventually the story would spread, and God only knew what would happen then.

Remus quite literally jumped six inches when the door flew open, revealing his parents and two men – ministry officials, most likely, though one of them looked far too young to hold any sort of important position. Remus let his mother hug him without moving. His father just looked exhausted and rather ill as he carefully removed his glasses and polished them with a handkerchief. Mr. Lupin was a tall man in his fifties; thin and rather bony, like Remus, but with lighter coloring – gray eyes and light brown hair which was becoming more silver-streaked every time Remus saw him. Right now, the gray eyes were alight with concern as his father exchanged a nod with him (he was still being hugged by his mother, who seemed to know to do nothing else). 

The older ministry official, an aged man with a clean-cut beard and obviously expensive robes, cleared his throat, and Remus' mother finally let go of him and stood up, eyes red. The official sighed. "Akela, I'll be honest – I'm not sure how we can get out of this."

Remus turned to see what his father's response would be. He still just looked tired. "What can we do to try?" he said after a moment, quietly.

The younger official was eyeing Remus with some interest. He was probably about eighteen or nineteen-years-old; freshly graduated. Remus recognized him vaguely from a few years previous at Hogwarts. He was tall and rather lanky, with bright red hair, freckles, and plain round glasses. He was looking at Remus as if he'd never seen something like him before. Which, Remus reminded himself, he probably hadn't. But he didn't look afraid, exactly. He seemed friendly enough, though Remus rather wished that he would look away.

The senior ministry official turned to look at Remus suddenly – he'd been chatting quietly with his parents for the past few minutes. "Young Mr. Lupin, I'm Terran Montgomery, head of the Department for Control of Magical Creatures, Beast Division." Remus winced. "This is Arthur Weasley; he's mentoring until we find him a spot." He indicated the younger man next to him, who offered a small smile to everybody, but kept his mouth shut. Montgomery continued his explanation. "He's got to get some experience. We thought this might be a good chance for him."

Remus' parents didn't look too perturbed that a novice was going to "help" them. While the adults started to mumble to each other near the door, Arthur Weasley took a few tentative steps toward Remus. He looked a bit nervous, and Remus was wary of the possible oncoming conversation. "Aren't you at Hogwarts?" Weasley said quietly.

"Yeah." His voice sounded as if it hadn't been used in ages. He cleared his throat. "Sixth year."

Weasley nodded, jamming his hands in his pockets. He looked as if he was debating asking something, and Remus had a fairly good idea of what that was. He decided to take care of it before he could be bothered. "No, I didn't do it," he rasped, swallowing sorely. His throat seemed to have constricted some time ago. 

The older boy shook his head so fervently that his glasses barely stayed on. "Oh! Oh, no, I didn't mean to interrogate – "

Remus gave him a tired (well, more _exhausted_, really, or _clinging to the last of consciousness_) smile. "Yes you did. 'S alright. No point doing this the roundabout way." He turned his eyes back to the murmuring adults. The sight wasn't the least bit comforting, so he went back to staring at his hands, which at least didn't keep shooting him worried glances. He sighed. "I've never actually harmed anyone. Ever. I'd know it, if I had. I don't lose…" – he swallowed roughly – "I don't lose my memory."

Everyone stopped talking as the door flew open again and a tall, sour-looking young man entered, emerald cloak swirling about his leather boots a bit too dramatically. "Some Irish girl is outside wanting to see this _thing_," – he jerked his head at Remus – "and I told her to shove off, but she won't listen."

Montgomery looked annoyed. "Walden, watch your mouth. This '_thing_'understands English perfectly well."

Remus grimaced. Walden, as he was apparently called, rolled his black eyes impatiently. "Yes, yes, yes; you can tell me what a bigot I am later." He crossed burly arms, one thick eyebrow raised. "What do I do about the wench?"

"Tell her," Remus said, rather loudly, surprising the cell's other occupants, "that I said not to worry – it'll be fine."

"You're so sure?" Walden smirked. He flicked a bit of dust off his sleeve and looked at Remus with such hateful condescension that it actually made him forget his fear for a moment, replacing it with a mad desire to choke the hell out of this idiot.

"Of course," piped up Arthur Weasley, polishing his glasses absently on his rather patchy-looking cloak. Walden sneered at him, but Arthur ignored it. "Why wouldn't he be, Macnair?"

Ah. Walden Macnair. Well, that explained a lot. Remus hadn't recognized him, but he recognized the name. He'd been one of Blasphen's favorite students before he graduated, and a good friend of Lucius and Severus'. They were an incredibly unpleasant lot, far worse together than apart, like wild animals on the hunt. Honestly, Remus wondered where he'd got off telling Fi that the Slytherins weren't all that bad. He stopped. That had only been about three days ago. The afternoon in the library seemed ages ago…

And Fi. What must she think? Macnair and Weasley were currently having a staring contest (Arthur mildly meeting the glare Walden sent him), as Montgomery had made it apparent with a sharp look that Walden wasn't to say anything. Remus didn't want to send any messages to Fiona with Macnair. He'd probably disregard anything Remus said and tell her to bugger off and mind her own business. And that wouldn't help. And if Fi's temper got up, that wouldn't exactly be a good thing, either… She tended to get somewhat upset when she didn't know what was happening, and this was a definitely dodgy situation. Remus could almost see her pacing outside, a pissed-off expression clouding her face.

"…Right, well, we'll give it a try," came Montgomery's voice from across the room. He sounded tense. "That's all we can do, I'm afraid. That professor hasn't shown any symptoms of lycanthropy as of yet. I doubt she will, given your son's account of the evening…" All the adults looked worriedly at Remus. Remus looked back at his hands, wondering if evaporating on the spot was an option. Apparently it wasn't.

Yet _another_ official came dashing in, this one a rather short man about Weasley and Macnair's age (apparently there were a lot of recent graduates working at the ministry) with blonde, unkempt hair. "Trial's getting ready to start. Somebody's got to escort the…er…" His eyes flicked to Remus, and some sort of compassion or pity or…_something_ flashed before them. "The boy out to the courtroom."

"I'll do it, Frank," Arthur said quickly; Macnair had opened his mouth to volunteer, a nasty smirk playing across his features. Remus shot Arthur a grateful look, and Arthur nodded almost imperceptibly under the eye of his superior. "Frank" nodded and rushed off to do whatever else his duty commanded of him. After a few murmured words of encouragement from his parents, Remus was hurried out of the cell and down a long, stone corridor. He knew he didn't look his best, but from the looks ministry members were sending him, one would guess he was clinging to life by a mere thread. He probably didn't look well at all, he reflected, following Arthur Weasley's swishing blue robes around a corner, down a winding stone staircase, down another corridor, another set of stairs (this one more dark and damp and discouraging than even the last had been – wherever they were going, it was definitely underground) and up to a pair of huge oak doors. Remus hadn't realized it while sitting in his cell with nerves tingling from fear and worry, but he now discovered that he was exhausted. Completely drained. 

Arthur was saying something: "…and sit down. The chains'll wind up your arms, but pay them no mind. They're only there for the audience's sense of security, awful as that is." He looked nervous and apologetic. "Hey, sorry, mate. 'S awful, prejudice they have in the Ministry."

All of this civility was lost on Remus, however, as he was too busy staring glassily at the oak doors. Behind that was the court room. Behind that set of oak doors was what decided his fate. Remus nodded, acknowledging Arthur and steeling himself for the worst. Which, he reminded himself, he probably couldn't even comprehend at the moment. His throat seemed to have completely closed up, and he wasn't quite aware of what was happening when he stepped into the room and was escorted by two grim-looking aurors to a platform. Next thing he knew, he was seated in an awful metal chair, and there was a gentle clinking noise as the chains slid, snakelike, up his arms. His dazed mind thought they looked rather like that plant Professor Sprout had been teaching about two weeks previous.

Before she was attacked – 

__

No, Remus thought sternly, fighting off the need to fall asleep for a very long time and not _think_ anymore. Sirius had always told him his brain would go into overload one of these days if he didn't give it a rest once in awhile. Well, this seemed to be it. _Mustn't think about _that._ Useless now, really, isn't it? What's the bloody _point?

"Trial 315," read some distant voice to his left. "Alleged werewolf attack on Professor Sophia Sprout of Hogwarts School. Suspect, one Remus Lupin, only known werewolf on the premises."

Normally, the words would have stung, but Remus was a bit too tired for them to take full effect on him. Some removed part of him stirred at these statements, but the only effect was the tightening of the chains on his wrists and, he discovered suddenly, his ankles. Oh, how simply _splendid._ They'd wanted to be doubly sure he didn't leap out and attack a jury member. Well.

He chanced an exhausted look up at the audience. The majority of the light was focused on the platform on which he was seated (chained), so it was difficult to make out the faces, but he saw a rather large group in the middle section of tiered seats that was making quite a commotion over something. He caught a glimpse of red hair that had to be Lily's, and heard some frantic whispering before an aged wizard in the row below theirs turned around in his seat to tell the lot of them to shut up. Remus' parents, Weasley, Macnair, and Montgomery were seated off to the right, and all were watching anxiously – well, not so much Macnair. His look could have been considered one of anticipation. Remus really didn't care about him, though. He brought his attention to the judge. And promptly choked, causing the tightening on his wrists and ankles to increase a notch.

Bartemius Crouch. Just his luck. "Internationally famous hardass" was what Sirius had referred to him as, once. Not far off the mark, as far as Remus was concerned. The man positively radiated rigidity. This wasn't strict the way Professor McGonagall was. This was more like the obsessive-compulsive kind of strict. His hair was parted painfully dead-center, and apparently he spent a good three hours in front of the mirror each morning, arranging his moustache hairs to fall exactly so. He looked tired and angry, with sunken dark spots beneath his gray eyes, and lines carved into his face from stress and anger. He shot Remus a very hard look.

All in all, the effect was unsettling and discouraging. Remus swallowed roughly, feeling he had approximately the same chance of surviving as Peter in a room full of rabid hippogriffs. He shifted slightly, trying not to trigger the chains into cutting off his circulation, then, gathering his courage, he met the cold gaze.

The first few questions were normal; for the record, really. Are you aware of your activities while in werewolf form? Are you aware of ever having left the area designated for your transformation? Are you able to recall any violence that may have occurred while you were in your lupine state? But when he told his side of things, everyone merely looked on in disbelief. They asked only the questions they wanted to hear the wrong answers to, and Remus didn't get a choice. He was feeling rather suffocated when they finally stopped and called up their first witness. Aaron Parkinson.

"I wasn't outside the night it happened," Parkinson began loudly, at the speaking stand. He sniffed. "All I know is, he's a danger to the school, and our headmaster isn't taking the lives of the other students very seriously if he's keeping this thing nearby…"

Crouch got tired of hearing Parkinson go on and on about Dumbledore rather quickly, so he was dismissed after a relatively short time. During that brief period of time, though, Parkinson made a rather weak shot at Remus in the form of accidentally referring to him as "the beast." There was a sudden outburst from the back-middle section of the room, and, apparently, Sirius Black was restrained by several guards. Well, there went one of the witnesses. Remus sighed. At least the inevitable would come quickly. This was agonizing.

Lucius Malfoy was next up. He stood up at the stand with a nasty smirk on his face, looking so bloody triumphant that it was almost sickening. The boy was positively oozing victory. He'd get it all over his expensive new robes if he didn't watch it. "Allow me to first say that this is not the _only_ incident we at Hogwarts have had with this werewolf." He let this statement sink in with perfect timing. "I'm sure that our Headmaster Dumbledore kept most of this information from reaching the public, and though there is no press present at the moment, I feel that the information is necessary for presenting to even the small audience that has congregated here to decide the fate of this creature." There was a muffled struggle from the back of the room, and Malfoy's smirk widened ever-so-slightly. "While it is certainly…_classified_ information, it is also most definitely relevant." 

He kept the audience waiting, letting their curiosity work to his advantage. Why didn't somebody _make _him either say something or get down? He was taking far too long… "While I, myself, have never had an encounter with the werewolf, everyone knows how dangerous they can be at times. The fact that the headmaster keeps one in the school is completely inappropriate and dangerous. This _animal_ is exposed to other students, unbeknownst to either student or parent. But that is not even the extent of it." He paused, gray eyes gleaming madly. "Once, a fellow Slytherin, Severus Snape, was nearly eaten by this…this _monster_. He unknowingly discovered the habitat thrown together for Lupin's transformations, and as a result, nearly suffered the most severe of consequences." There was a general murmur rippling through the audience, and Lucius smiled in his oily way. His voice became very soft and very dangerous, and the audience hung on every word: "Remus Lupin is not just a boy. He's a beast. The truth of the matter is, he's capable of murder, and the fact that he's a werewolf doesn't excuse him." 

There was a loud murmur from the audience, and it took several good blows with the gavel to get the courtroom quiet once more. Crouch looked around coldly. "Is this _Severus_ present?"

Snape stood up rather quickly and hurried to the front of the room, black robes swishing behind him a bit too theatrically to be taken seriously. He stood up at the stand and brushed a strand of greasy dark hair out of his face, looking very resolute and rather…not _afraid_, exactly, but certainly uncomfortable. Crouch eyed him shrewdly. "Full name?"

"Severus Snape." Remus noted the definite lack of middle name, and knew that Sirius would probably make a point of discovering just what it was. Mind, Remus remembered, he probably wouldn't be there to see the ensuing chaos.

"What have you to say on this matter?"

Snape swallowed roughly, and Remus saw his eyes dart from where Lucius had seated himself next to Aaron and a knot of Slytherins to where Fiona was undoubtedly sitting. He cleared his throat. "I do admit that I was nearly attacked by the werew—er—Lupin…" He swallowed again, gazing at some point in the audience. "…but I must also admit that I had gone after him, not the other way around."

"Of course you did, you ignorant—" Sirius was cut off as the aurors around him performed some sort of silencing charm and restrained him.

Snape shot the general area from which the noise had come a wary look and continued. "I do think that Remus Lupin is a danger to the school, but I think that, perhaps..." – he looked doubtful – "...Perhaps...extra cautions could be taken to ensure that nothing of this caliber should occur ever again." He cast another odd look toward the back of the room and stepped down to meet the annoyed faces of his Slytherin cohorts.

"We will now call to the stands..." The judge paused as a sheet of parchment was handed to him by an assistant. He read it almost confusedly for a moment, then: "Fiona McLellan, another student, has requested to speak."

Remus looked up as Fi made her way quickly down the broad stairs separating the tiered seats in sections, stopping as she reached the front platform. Their eyes met for a moment, and he saw that she looked as confident, if not more so, as Lucius had. She looked far more frightened than he had, however, as she stepped up to all of the older, more refined witches and wizards to state her case. The Irish brogue rang out shakily from where she stood: "I...was outside on the evening of the attack." She started talking faster with every word, stammering a bit but obviously acting as bravely as she could. "I saw everything. Remus Lupin, though he is a werewolf, is kept in the safest, most secure places during his transformations, and would not, _could not_, hurt anyone." She closed her eyes momentarily, and breathed in deeply. The audience looked bored. Fi then continued with her groundbreaking statement, which took everyone in attendance by surprise, including Remus: "While awake one evening, at about three AM, I managed to overhear several boys plotting to release a dangerously vicious dog, framing Remus."

The audience was obviously quite interested. There were soft murmurs breaking out like fires all over the room. Crouch pounded the gavel for silence. "These boys' names were...?"

Remus looked up suddenly. If she gave names… Was she mad? Didn't she know how _dangerous_ it was to go pissing off Slytherins with dangerous parents? He saw her throat contract as she obviously considered just what he was thinking. But she took a deep breath, and ploughed right through: "Lucius Malfoy," – the crowd gasped quite loudly – "Aaron Parkinson," – rather intense murmuring – "and Severus Snape."

At this, a tall, pale man that could only be Lucius' father stood and, looking beyond indignant, yelled: "And we're going to take _her_ word for it? Against everyone else who has testified? Bartemius, I hardly think that – "

"But we have evidence!" Fi shrank back visibly as everyone in the entire room turned to look at her. Remus even looked up.

"What evidence?" Crouch, looking more animated than he had throughout the entire trial, leaned forward on his podium, apparently intrigued with this statement.

"Emm..." Fiona's eyes darted around the room. She looked very trapped. "Well, I..." She looked back at the group seated in the middle section. Remus saw Lily's red hair bob in an encouraging nod. "I...Just a moment, please..."

And she suddenly shut her eyes and started mumbling to herself. It looked as though she'd either gone completely loony, or was trying to get her courage up to speak again. Remus squinted in confusion, the light from overhead boring into his vision almost painfully. _What on Earth?_ Mr. Malfoy snorted in annoyance, mumbling something about stupid little girls. It went very quiet, and then the audience flew into an uproar. Remus turned toward what was apparently the source of the confusion, and his eyes met with one of the strangest sights they ever would see in his life.

A huge black dog had entered the courtroom – one far bigger and more vicious-looking than even Padfoot. It was about the size of a horse, with glowing red eyes and snarled, matted fur, and was clearly doing its best to try and leap at the nearest fresh meat. This was made impossible, however, by the seven rather large, multicolored faeries holding glowing leashes that attached to a silver collar clamped around the beast's neck. It was straining and pulling, but to no avail. The dog turned scarlet eyes on Lucius, and immediately went into a frenzy trying to reach him, frothing at the mouth and clawing at anything within a six foot radius.

Crouch shot Fiona an astounded look, banging the gavel furiously on the podium for silence. Several Aurors, looking thoroughly confused but not quite surprised (when _did_ they look surprised?), cast a quick silencing charm on the dog – probably the same one used on Sirius. Crouch watched this to be sure that the creature was firmly captured and quieted, all the while with an extremely odd look on his face. The audience continued to shout, gossip, talk and, in some cases, shriek in the background. Finally, Crouch bellowed, "QUIET!" and glanced back to Fi again, and began, in a very calm but disbelieving voice, "Miss McLellan, how did you—?"

Fi twisted her fingers together in front of her, eyeing the still-restrained dog and then the judge before her. "I'm…a Fae-speaker..."

The crowd went into more loud murmuring, and Remus barely had time to mutter inaudibly, "You're a _what?_" before Mr. Malfoy had leapt to his feet, looking rather deranged. "See? _See?_ You're going to take one of _them_ for reliable, against my son? I, who have done nothing but offer reliable service to the ministry? _I,_ who have offered generous donations to many organizations, including St. Mungo's? And you're going to take this – this _girl's_ – word, instead of my son's?" He was breathing hard through his nose. "What does this prove, anyway?"

"Orion – "

"And there's more." Everyone turned to Fi again, shocked. Fiona, herself, shrank back at the attention. Everything was very quiet, aside from Mr. Malfoy, who had just apparently joined Sirius in the back of the room, restrained by several aurors. Fi licked her lips nervously. "Emm...Just…uh…for the record, Professor Sprout isn't a werewolf. If Remus had attacked her, she would be."

Not exactly the dramatic statement expected, but accurate, nonetheless.

"You can't prove that!" Mr. Malfoy yelled suddenly from the back of the room. "You don't know until the full moon!"

"Actually, Orion, we can prove that." Dumbledore's voice rang through the courtroom, gaining silence far more effectively than any amount of gavel-pounding would have. Apparently, he had managed to attend without much of a fuss at his presence. 

Mr. Malfoy sounded highly affronted. "What are you talking about, Albus?"

"We have developed different potions, methods, and spells to conclude whether an animal attack victim has become a werewolf," Dumbledore said mildly. "For example, we have found that if the victim has a definite change in dental configuration approximately two days after the attack, then they are indeed a werewolf. It is true in all cases, if you take the time to do the required research." Dumbledore gave a quiet smile as Malfoy positively writhed in anger.

Crouch thought this over. "McLellan, you may be seated."

Fi sighed appreciatively, giving the completely gobsmacked Remus a reassuring look before hurrying up to her seat.

After the incident with the dog, nothing James or Lily said really made much of a difference. They restated facts, for the most part, but more attention was on the huge, rabid-looking dog, and just why it was there. All in all, when the jury filed out of the room to deliberate, Remus actually felt a sliver more confident than he had previously. Though he couldn't quite place where Fiona was sitting in the courtroom, he felt her eyes on him. She was scared, too.

Three-quarters of an hour later, the twenty witches and wizards filed back into the room, settling into their rows without sitting. "We have reached a decision," one, a rather short man with dark hair, announced to Crouch. 

Crouch nodded. "All finding Remus Lupin guilty, please raise your wands now." One lone wizard brought his wand in the air. He looked to be an unpleasant sort, and was probably a Slytherin, Remus thought dazedly. "All finding Remus Lupin innocent, please raise your wands." Everyone else in the jury raised their wands high into the air. The painfully well-groomed judge sighed. "Due to a request from Raksha and Akela Lupin, and from Albus Dumbledore, no further charges will be pressed against young Malfoy, Snape, and Parkinson other than the punishment their parents see as fitting. Dismissed."

Remus stared ahead, numb. He wasn't about to be shipped off to Azkaban. They weren't going to torture him with silver. He was free. Even now, Crouch was addressing the audience and jury on the confidentiality of this case, and the bad effects of a possible information leak. So that was to be taken care of… Several aurors approached the dog, casting all sorts of charms on it, finally encasing it in what looked like a large blue bubble. The faeries dispersed as easily as colorful wisps of smoke, obviously glad to be free of their violent burden. Suddenly, Remus' attention was pulled away as the pressure around his wrists and ankles decreased. He looked down. The chains slid limply off of his arms and clanked to the floor. He stood shakily, absolutely unable to believe his luck. The Slytherins were skulking out of one of the exits, looking beyond extremely disappointed.

Remus looked up suddenly as Fi leapt down the stairs and charged at him, grinning unabashedly. She jumped up and wound her arms around his neck and he followed through with the embrace, fitting his arms around her waist firmly and hugging her with as much appreciation as he could possibly convey in a simple hug. 

"Thank you," he muttered into her hair, feeling almost dizzy with relief and happiness, and the giddiness he got whenever she hugged him. He'd thought he would never feel that again.

"What?" She pulled away, hands resting on his upper-arms. He still kept a firm hold on her waist. "D'you think I'd let them take you for something you didn't do?" She smiled and he absently brushed a curl out of her face. She bit her lip, fighting a grin, her cheeks glowing a nice shade of pink. "I just wish I could have helped sooner..."

He smiled, the happiness in his chest rising to almost unbearable levels. He felt a rather bizarre urge to do something he normally would have considered impossible. He put a tentative finger under her chin, lifting her face up to meet his. Her eyes caught his gaze, blue-gray to brown, and suddenly, at that precise moment, the only thought on his mind, throughout all the chaos and celebration around him, was that he wanted to kiss her, right there and then, more than anything else.

Most unfortunately, however, Sirius hit his side with the approximate force of a smallish Welsh Green, slinging an arm around his shoulders and bellowing the most insulting things he could come up with – and that _said_ something – about the Slytherins, particularly Malfoy, for the dwindling audience to hear. Remus shot Fi an apologetic look; Fi, however, had glanced over at Lily and James, who were looking torn between amusement and annoyance at Sirius. However, more important matters were at hand – Remus' parents were making their way through the stands, and that look in his mother's eye meant that she had most definitely seen Fi hugging him. Remus sighed. Ah, well, at least she'd stop bothering him in her letters.

*

A/N: Well, there you have it. I will write Lost again soon, and you can all pester Ebony Foxfire by going to her author page and e-mailing her to START ON HER PART OF FA. Since nothing else seems to be working *glares at Ebony, who is, we hope, feeling quite guilty ^-^* Yeah. So. I'm not going to ask for a review right now. I'll let you decide what to do.


End file.
